


Crown of Madness

by Kosho



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, Non-Sexual Slavery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, There's A Tag For That, Tieflings, split personality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2020-02-29 19:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 44,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18784603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho
Summary: Cherish doesn’t remember how he got to the Conclave. He barely remembers escaping his master. With a vanished memory and fractured sanity, he has a world to save now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve rediscovered my love For Tieflings and this beautiful baby is inspiration also for my next campaign character <3.

Fate, one might argue. Fate that got him stuck in these lands to begin with. Now, in the land where people flocked to call him ‘Herald’. The fearful creature who somehow saved them completely by accident. Little more than a name and a past much like being blind. He recalled a master, and not much beyond, for some reason just gone. To say his start was rocky was an understatement. 

 

_ “What manner of creature are you? Where do you hail from?” His interrogator questioned.  _

 

_ He giggled uncontrollably, his hood forced down, curling ram’s horns and smaller in between in full view. Darkened nighttime skin and white, starry freckles revealed, the fire catching and etching violet hues exposed completely. Wrinkled black robes did little to hide sharp claws, pointed fangs resting softly on full lips, and a long, spaded tail, the suggestion of a demon.  _

 

_ “I know not where I hail from, only where I was!” He snickered. “My dear master sent me off and I escaped, I did, all by my little lonesome…”  _

 

_ “Your name?” She questioned, not in the least amused by his odd reactions.  _

 

_ “Cherish, my lady. Cherish like my master named me, I don’t know any other, or if I ever had another.” He told her.  _

 

_ Bound hands reached up to itch at his nose, pierced through the bridge and inside, his lips pierced through at the sides, and curiously elven ears revealed little studs along the edges. A long scar crossed his nose, another gracing his jaw and a hint of one edged out from a thick, buckled leather collar, a full, wavy mane of black, unkempt but neatly maintained.  _

 

_ His eyes, they reflected both an innocence and an absence in the soft seafoam. Slitted like a cat, the whites of his eyes more a softer shade still of the same curious color. He watched her curiously. The torchlight flickering on yet  another piercing through his right brow. His hand flickering with an eerie green glow that flickered and flowed like a crackling fire, and yet he had not once looked to it.  _

 

_ “You are the only survivor of the Conclave…” She said warily.  _

 

_ He looked away, then back, his face unchanging, almost at a loss.  _

 

_ “What happened to the others? There were thousands of adorable little people there, can’t all have disappeared, where would someone put them all?” He questioned.  _

 

“You still have no clue?” Varric asked. 

 

Cherish giggled, shaking his head. “Not even slightly. It’s so freeing! I could be anyone. Isn’t it exciting?” 

 

Sighing, he patted his shoulder. “I mean I guess I see your point. You might have a family, friends, someone at home waiting for you, and you’re not even a little curious?” 

 

“Why would people who claim to care let me go so easily? Why not come back for me? No, more likely I was sold.” He said seriously. 

 

Even he could be that way then? It was rare to get anything from him that didn’t sound like utter madness hidden in a fit of laughter. Still, his words were betrayed by his actions in battle. He danced with a deadly seriousness, each blow of his daggers an incredibly precise strike, often in vital points as easily if he could see them like glaring weak points. He’d met enough people in his time to guess with a strong certainty that he might not be entirely sane, though he was  _ effective  _ and there were definitely breaks in his madness. Even Solas was at a loss to explain just what might be wrong or could possibly have happened to make him that way. Flirtatious, he’d give him that too, and beyond any comprehension his tactics had left men and women alike at his mercy. Far too busy to carry on with anyone at present, but he couldn’t deny the silver tongue in his oddly blue-hued mouth. He seemed to have the charm that worked in his favor whether his goal was persuading or deceiving. A spy if he’d dare to guess, at least formerly. 

 

Fortune seemed to have lent him the barest touches of magic, and his favored trick by far was altering the fire to a strange pinkish hue, if not outright putting it out from across a room. 

 

“Herald of Andraste and ‘demon’ in the same sentences. Is that common?” He asked quietly. 

 

“Not that I know of.” He admitted. “Still, you’re no demon, I’ve seen enough in my time to know that with certainty. Not quite sure what you are, but if you were a demon this tab would have disappeared by now.” 

 

“The pretty bird paid me. I could pay it.” Cherish said, taking a long drink. 

 

“I’d say you don’t have to, but what can I say? I’m not going to insist you don’t either.” He said. 

 

Some of his names for people had taken some getting used to, he’d easily figured out ‘the pretty bird’ was Leliana, based entirely on how many people called her ‘nightingale’ and oddly enough ‘the princess’ was not Cassandra, as he’d initially assumed, given that she was technically royalty, but Josephine, who he said looked more fitting of such a title. No, Cassandra was ‘The sword maiden’ and him, the Jester. Fitting, at the least, and in a sense his nicknames served less an alternate name in the way his were, but a way to keep everyone straight in his mind. 

 

Cherish stood up, rummaging in one of the pockets on his vest, fishing out a small pouch of coins. He swayed and bobbed to music that just wasn’t there, humming under his breath on his way to the counter. Flissa smiled warmly at him, and Varric watched with interest. 

 

“How are you feeling today, Herald?” She asked cheerfully. 

 

“Far better now that I’ve seen your light, your smile makes my day.” He said. 

 

“What do you need?” She asked, gesturing to the coin pouch. 

 

“Just to pay for my friend and I.” He said. 

 

Flissa emptied it out, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh, this is too much.” 

 

“It’s alright, if it pleases you, can you apply it for later?” He asked. 

 

“I...of course, I’ll mark it in the ledger.” She said. 

 

Reaching for another mug, she filled it to the brim, holding it out in offering. “This is on me. You’ve done so much already.” 

 

“Thank you, you are a beacon of hope in these dark times.” He told her. 

 

“Oh, you!” She said, glowing at the praise. 

 

He held the mug firmly, spinning carefully on his heel, his tail swaying lazily at his back. Returning to his seat, he set it down, reaching for the half emptied mug first, tipping it back, his chair creaking under him when he leaned in it. 

 

“You have to teach me how to do that sometime.” Varric muttered.

 

“It’s no trick. It’s just me.” He said, snickering a bit. 

 

“What exactly do you remember? You mentioned your master, you must remember something about him, about where you were before you got here? I had a friend in Kirkwall in a similar situation, but it was a bit different.” Varric asked conversationally. 

 

“Not much.” He shrugged, his smile vanishing for a more contemplative expression. “Qarinus, I think...in the Imperium. My master is a Mage. He liked to watch me dance for his guests. Lovely music, and rapt attention from every direction. For some, I was lent out for a night, for others, I was sent to kill.” 

 

There was no sadness or anger in his eyes, more like he simply didn’t understand or perhaps just didn’t care that he was little more than a tool at his master’s disposal. Then again, he supposed he had a fair enough guess as to what was off about him. Part of him was completely reasonable and charming, almost regal in a way, while the other part was more childlike in terms of just how he acted, like he didn’t quite understand the situation he was in completely. He guessed it might have been an unexpected way to cope with whatever it was he went through, and yet it was just him grasping, or at least that’s how it felt. 

 

“You think me strange, but I’d imagine it isn’t my appearance to you, is it?” Cherish asked knowingly. 

 

“Not any stranger than some of my friends anyway. You’re interesting, I can say that much.” He shrugged. 

 

A man approached, bowing deeply. “Pardon the interruption, Herald, but lady Montilyet has asked me to fetch you when you have a moment.” He said apologetically. 

 

Cherish glanced down at the full mug in front of him, sliding it across the table to Varric. “Have it, I shouldn’t keep the princess waiting. She’s busy always.” 

 

“Of course.” He nodded. 

 

“I’m ready to go.” He announced. 

 

Standing up, he resumed his humming, his tail loosely snaking around his waist, running his marked hand through his hair, like some part of him was attempting to look a bit more presentable for his unexpected meeting, following the messenger out slowly. 

 

“He’ll be a fun one to figure out…” Varric muttered to himself, taking a drink. 


	2. Chapter 2

Cherish paused at the door, listening for a moment. There were many voices inside, more than just the one he was expecting. After a moment, he knocked quietly. 

 

“Come in.” Josephine told him. 

 

He opened the door, wandering in slowly. Leliana, Josephine and several servants were present, a cup of tea and a small cake waiting by an empty chair for him. He took a seat, looking around curiously. 

 

“Princess, why is the pretty bird and these others here?” He asked worriedly. “Have I done something wrong?”

 

“No, it’s nothing like that. Leliana had a matter she wished to discuss with you, as do I, these people are here to help you out. “ she explained. 

 

Almost immediately, one of the servants tipped his head back, his hair dipped into a bowl of warm water. Another began washing his hair, and that’s when he started squirming. He whined quietly, turning his head to the sides to try to get away. 

 

“Are you alright, Herald?” Leliana asked curiously. 

 

“No...no, I don’t like this!” He whimpered. 

 

“It’s okay, they won’t hurt you. We still have to get you to Val Royeaux, and tidying you up a bit will garner a more favorable response.” Josephine explained. 

 

Cherish squeezed his eyes shut, scraping nervously at the surface of the table, though he stopped fighting it so much after her explanation, though he still looked uncomfortable. 

 

“If you say I need this…” he mumbled. 

 

It was as much an effort to probe a little, to find some lead to follow that might yield information about him, something Josephine could spin more positively than what the chantry would say. 

 

“Your daggers. They appear to be Tevinter in make, where did you get them? They’re beautiful.” Leliana said. 

 

Cherish was able to raise his head now, feeling something running through his hair slowly, followed by the occasional snip. 

 

“My master gave me these. ‘For protection’ he said. Bad people wanted to hurt me, he said I had permission to kill if they tried.” He explained. 

 

“A master?” Leliana asked, nudging Josephine, who made a note of it. “What do you think of him?” 

 

He smiled, not the expression she anticipated at all. 

 

“He was very kind to me. He gave me my name. Said he could teach me, make me safe.” He said warmly. 

 

“But you said before you escaped from him?” Leliana asked. 

 

“He told me I had to. Said I was in danger and that running here would help. ‘Go to the Conclave, you’ll be safe there. I’ll find you later.’” He said. 

 

Josephine looked up from her notes when the servants excused themselves. Cherish’s previously dingy waves had blossomed into a mass of pretty curls, which he seemed preoccupied with, lightly tugging on one between his eyes, gleefully giggling at the way it bounced back into place when he let go of it. 

 

“Have you thought of anything that could be important?” Josephine asked gently. 

 

Cherish glanced at her for a moment, before distracting himself with the cake, reaching like he meant to grab it, though he stopped, folding his hands at his chest briefly before he reached for the silverware. Bad manners were a poor trait to have. 

 

“I’m sorry, but no…” he said. Taking a bite of the cake, he beamed with delight, trying the tea next. “Oh...you said something about Val Royeaux? Do I have to leave tonight?” 

 

His face dropped slightly at the thought, but Leliana and Josephine both shook their heads. 

 

“No, Cassandra, Varric and Solas will accompany you in the morning. It will take a few days, but we expect you’ll be returned without issue.” Leliana assured him. 

 

Josephine took down a few more notes, taking the opportunity to begin penning a letter. She had a few ideas, but the leading one was that if his master was indeed as kind as he insisted, he may have applied for citizenship for him in the Imperium, and given his  _ unique  _ appearance, it shouldn’t be too difficult to figure out who his master was too. From there, perhaps he might have some more information on where he came from. It could be entirely that he was taken by slavers, but they had to grab him from somewhere. There was still a chance that he had someone frantic with worry about where he had gone. 

 

Leliana took a seat next to him, noticing he still seemed ill at ease. She put a hand between his shoulders, rubbing slow circles there, a simple act that seemed to do plenty to relax him. 

 

“What about some easy things, do you mind if I ask?” She asked. 

 

Nodding once, he offered a nervous smile before returning to the cake. 

 

“Do you know how old you are?” She asked. 

 

He curled his finger to his chin, his tail waving slowly behind him. “Twenty six. I think. I’m pretty sure. Maybe not?” 

 

“Have you traveled much? Besides here?” She questioned.

 

“Foggy jungle, too hot. Freed Marshes too?” He said quizzically. 

 

“Seheron?” Josephine suggested at first, curling her hand over her mouth to avoid laughing. She didn’t want to seem insensitive, but it was somewhat charming to hear his take on things, humorous at times, really. “The Free Marches? Do you know where? Kirkwall, perhaps? Ostwick?” 

 

Seheron seemed to bring something to mind, his eyes lighting up with familiarity for just a moment before it seemed to disappear again. She scribbled another note, not that anyone there might even answer a missive, but it wasn’t as though a spy or two couldn’t slip in and out unnoticed, long enough to search for anything meaningful.

 

“Yeah, Marches!” He said excitedly. 

 

None of the names elicited any sort of reaction from him, however. Unlikely writing to anyone in either place would yield meaningful results.

 

“Anywhere else?” Leliana probed cautiously.

 

He tapped his fingers on the table, his lips pursed, before he nodded slowly. “The Velvet Fang?” 

 

Leliana shook her head. That was a new one on her, Josephine offered a discreet shrug of agreement, she wasn’t familiar with it either. Sounded like a tavern of some variety, but where it was located was a question for later. Not a critical issue at the moment, possibly too long ago for anyone to recall seeing him, but then again, for obvious reasons he could be memorable. 

 

Cherish set the silverware down, finishing his tea, frowning again. 

 

“I don’t like chantries. They scare me.” He said. “This one is okay, you’re here, so it must be right?” 

 

Josephine nodded slowly. “Of course. Should anyone treat you improperly, feel free to bring it to our attention and we’ll handle it appropriately.” 

 

“Yes…” Leliana echoed ominously. 

 

He buried his face in his arms, laughing. “I think I like this place!”

  
  



	3. Someone’s Royal Pain

Several hours outside of Haven, and several quick and bloody fights later, Cassandra gave the word to set up camp for the night. Cherish sat on the ground, legs crossed, watching Solas leave. It caught him by surprise, rising back to his feet, following behind him for a bit. 

 

“Are you leaving? I thought you were coming with?” He asked curiously.

 

Solas stopped, turning to face him. Cherish looked up to watch his eyes, tilting his head. 

 

“I’m only going for the night. I’ll be back early in the morning, you have my word.” He assured him. 

 

“Okay…” He said disappointedly. 

 

“I’m certain Varric will be up for a time, perhaps he’d like to keep you company. I hear he has a fondness for games, if you ask, he might even teach you.” Solas suggested. 

 

He stared at the ground, nudging a few small pebbles with the toe of his boot, nodding slowly. “I suppose that could be fun…” 

 

“Once things have calmed down some, I would like to talk to you, in fact. I suspect Cassandra would be unnerved by your absence, given the situation.” He explained. 

 

“I’m not really a demon, honest! I’m not going to hurt you…” he said hopefully. 

 

“I believe you.” He assured him. 

 

Not entirely a truth, but it was entirely possible he simply didn’t know. He’d spent plenty of time in the Fade, knew the feel of spirits and demons alike, had faced plenty here as well. Not simply touched by the Fade, but he shared the feel of demonic energy. It was slight enough to recognize he was not wrong, at least, in his statement that he himself was no demon, but he’d had some contact with one, that much was evident. That in itself wouldn’t explain away why he had no recollection of such a thing. He had come from Tevinter, perhaps the master he’d made mention to had a hand in that. Perhaps another Mage entirely, he couldn’t discern such a thing by feel alone. 

 

Then again, it might be easier for him to open up to someone else, someone he felt more comfortable around? Varric had taken a curious interest in him, but given his undoubtedly embellished account of Kirkwall, he was not exactly unfamiliar or innately put off by those who  _ had _ dealt with them directly. 

 

“Get some sleep, if nothing else. It’s still a long way to where we’re headed. It wouldn’t do for you to be exhausted.” He said. 

 

He nodded again, more enthusiastically this time, dashing back towards the tents without so much as a wave. To say he was odd was an understatement, but perhaps if and when he returned to some sense of normalcy, he’d definitely be something else. Whether that was a good thing or not remained in question. 

 

Cherish crawled into the tent, Cassandra on guard by the fire, Varric was sitting up, Bianca laid carefully on the ground beside him, unloaded for the night. 

 

He took a seat on the opposite bedroll, shrugging out of his cloak, laying it out behind him. He unbuckled his vest, letting it fall, the sound mildly startling. It sounded far heavier on impact than it looked, but he seemed not to notice it was unusual. Varric snuck a curious glance. His arms were marked in white tattoos, nothing he could identify, more intriguing patterns than meaningful symbols, at a guess. It was when he finally unbuckled his collar for the night, his first and yet only look at him this  _ comfortable. _

 

The scar going up his neck extended down just above his collarbone, and yet the few he had seemed to be the only scars of note, save for one across the back of his shoulder, darkened purple and veiny in appearance, he’d seen enough fighting to know that was magic. He’d been hit, looked like the sort of storm aspected magic he’d witnessed Hawke use on a few occasions. Probably couldn’t guess which way to move to dodge it and took a hit, who knew. He turned his head, and a hint up something peeked out from under his curls. He pulled his tail across his lap, then reached up to ruffle his hair up a bit, offering enough of a peek at the mark. It looked completely natural, not as dark as any inks typically used in tattoos, and the odd shape combined with the jarring interruption of his deep blue-black skin with the paler shade of purple left an obvious, if familiar shape. 

 

Were it not for Hawke opting to help so many people he probably wouldn’t have given it much thought. But now? He knew that to be the crest of a pretty prominent family. Royalty, in fact…

 

Now it was beginning to make some sort of sense. Not much admittedly, but he had several decent guesses as to just where he might have come from. Only royal families he was familiar with were all human. Even the elf-blooded bastards looked pretty convincingly human, you’d never know. He certainly bore only a passing resemblance to a human. If anything, he was definitely somebody’s bastard. From their, no great guess why he wasn’t tracked down to Tevinter.  _ Someone  _ went to great lengths to ensure he was kept a secret, why would they seek him out? 

 

“Varric?” Cherish said finally. 

 

“Yeah?” He asked. 

 

“The elfy egg said you’d play a game with me if I asked. Is that okay?” He wondered. 

 

Varric patted down his vest, peering into his pockets. Figures, he didn’t bring anything this time. He had a feeling he forgot something when he left. 

 

“Sorry, no go tonight, but I  _ can _ do something else. Something much better.” He said. 

 

“What is it?” He asked eagerly. 

 

“I could tell you some stories? I didn’t exactly include everything in my books, how about I give you an exclusive?” He suggested. 

 

“Wait…” he mumbled. His eyes opened widely, like he thought of something just then. “You’re  _ that _ Varric? I know some… my master used to read it to me, about the guards?” 

 

Varric looked mildly surprised. He hadn’t hear much about his books being very popular in Tevinter, but he supposed even they had an interest in good books. A bit unexpected to hear that he seemed to be a fan as well. That was probably a new brag, even if not strictly true, he could spin that to his publicist that even demons like his books. Most people didn’t take the chance to get to know people that were too different, they’d never think to find out if he was what he looked like. Their loss, decent kid, just a bit confused. 

 

“That’s me.” He said proudly. “Do you know the Tale of the Champion?” 

 

“I can’t say that I do…” he admitted. 

 

“Well, that’s alright. Just get comfortable, I’ll tell you some things I left out. Just...don’t spread it around, yeah?” He said.

 

Cherish nodded, falling over on his bedroll, folding his hands over his stomach. 

 

He took the opportunity to get a better look at him. His arms looked pretty solid, and he himself was slender, lean in muscle, definitely the mark of a rogue. Mages tended to be a bit softer, and those like the Seeker or the Commander? Bulkier, more muscular from the extra weight of a heavy weapon, a shield and heavier armor than most used. Details were everything, he’d found. The more attention you paid, the more you knew. 

 

“Anyway, suppose I should start by explaining a little bit about the layout of Kirkwall so I don’t lose you here…” he said. 


	4. Chapter 4

The group reached Val Royeaux around midday, the warmth in the air unpleasant, though Cherish seemed to be enjoying it, right up until he caught sight of the Mothers gathered in the streets. He shook his head slowly, backing away, at first only a slow step or two, then when Cassandra noticed, approaching quickly to retrieve him, he stepped back faster, bumping into a cart before entirely vanishing right in front of her eyes. 

 

“Where did he…” she muttered. 

 

Varric and Solas turned back to help look for him, something which might have been nearly impossible had Solas not taken note of the very tip of his tail, barely visible underneath a long banner. He pointed it out to Cassandra, who gestured to Varric to cover the other side, and Solas to watch the front. 

 

“I can see you.” She announced. 

 

“No you can’t…” he mumbled nervously. 

 

“What’s the matter, kid?” Varric asked curiously. 

 

“I...I’m sorry, I can’t do this...I thought I could, but it’s...I just can’t…” he apologized. 

 

“Why?” Solas wondered. 

 

“They scare me…” he admitted. “They say they help but they only hurt, I don’t want them to hurt me. The princess said it was okay in Haven, her and the pretty bird can stop them, but they’re not here…” 

 

Varric reaches over his shoulder, patting Bianca reassuringly. “You don’t need to worry. We’re not going to let them do anything. It’s just a harmless little chat. I’ve seen you talk to people before, you could talk anyone here out of anything, I’m sure of it.”

 

Cherish hesitantly came out from behind the banner, pointing to the gallows. “If they won’t hurt me, why is that there?” 

 

Cassandra looked back at it, then turned to face him again. “That’s for criminals who deserve it. You’ll be just fine.” 

 

He folded his arms across his waist, taking a few cautious steps back towards them. He chewed his lip worriedly, his tail jittering with his anxiety. Solas curled a hand over his shoulder in an effort to relax him. His marked hand rose up, covering it like he wasn’t really sure it was actually there, sighing with relief when he felt it. Letting go, he returned it to rest over his other. Coming to a stop in front of the Mothers, releasing his lip. 

 

It was almost impressive, actually. Watching the sudden shift in his demeanor. His eyes clear and focused, chin raised up in defiance. Rather than hide in his hood, he reached up, pulling it back, all four horns in full view as though daring them to recoil in horror. Mother Hevara didn’t flinch, instead readily pointing it out, seeming to recognize that doing just that would have only served to fuel what few believers in him to doubt. 

 

“You believe the Maker sends a  _ demon  _ to save us all, but we cannot be deceived!” She told the gathering crowd. 

 

“I am not a demon, I offer no claim to have been sent by the Maker. The only claim I will make is that I can close the rifts. I’ve fought the demons that pour from the sky, and if any of you truly cared to lend me your aid, I could close the Breach. That is, after all, the purpose of the Inquisition.” He replied. 

 

Solas watched him, everything the image of a power to be noted, the only indicator that he wasn’t absolutely composed was a slight shaking in his fingers, and the trembling in his tail that only they could see at that angle. 

 

She gestured to a group approaching her like they were going to come after him, and Cherish stood taller, glancing down to the daggers on his hips like he was debating if he should draw them, until one punched the woman. He stopped, staring down at him. His hands moved away from his daggers, propping a finger against his cheek, a strange smile on his face. Solas and Varric watched with interest, curious to see what he had in mind to look like that. 

 

He spoke, not the childlike way he usually spoke with or even the more mature way he had when he was clear, but something lower, deeper somehow. 

 

“Xe val’z zmulc haf ryiddh clas smiz haf’ry qyzzulq ulza…” he said, his eyes unflinchingly fixed on the man’s. 

 

Cassandra called him Lucius, but he didn’t look at her, hesitantly taking a step back, before waving the rest to follow, hastening his pace to leave. 

 

“What was that?” She asked warily. 

 

“I’m not sure, it’s just something I remembered. I feel like I’ve known it forever…” he mumbled. “As to what it was...I do know some magic… I remember if I can add a little into it, I can make my words more effective…” 

 

That was the best he could offer, following it up with a bewildered shrug, casting his eyes down like he was being scolded, and he regretted it immediately. Instead of lecturing him, she sighed, shaking her head with a sigh. 

 

“Let’s just go. It’s a long trip back…” She told him. 

 

He nodded eagerly, following behind her, though he jumped when an arrow landed mere inches from him, about the same time he noticed someone staring at him like he was waiting to talk to him. He lowered his voice to a whisper. 

 

“Am i in trouble? Can he hear me? Wait...are you seeing him too or is it just me?” He asked curiously. 

 

“Yes, he’s there.” Solas said. “I don’t think he can hear you, but it  _ does _ seem like he wants to speak to you.” 

 

“Should I? What could he want from me?” Cherish asked nervously. 

 

“You would need to ask him to find out.” Cassandra told him. 

 

Varric held up the arrow, a piece of something in his hand. “Looks like someone  _ else _ wants to play a little game with you. Seems like you might have a shy admirer. Might be worth it to look into this more, try to figure out who your mysterious new friend is?” 

 

He peeked up at that, giggling excitedly. “I love games. This sounds fun!” 

 

“See? There you go, all better, right? Those scary women didn’t hurt you, and people seem to want to get to know you. This is a good day, right?” Varric asked. 

 

“Must you treat him like a child? He  _ is _ an adult, though it doesn’t feel like it.” Cassandra muttered. 

 

“Oh come on, he’s right here. Maybe he’d like you more if you tried to understand him.” Varric told her. 

 

“We understand each other fine, I will not treat him like a baby, he doesn’t need that from all of us.” She grunted. 

 

Rather than acknowledge that, he pointed to the clue, still utterly excited about it. “Can we play now? I want to meet the secret person!” 

 

Varric grinned, looking at Cassandra seriously. “You heard him, Seeker. Looks like we’re going to play.” 

 

She sighed in disgust, throwing her arms up. “We’re never going to get out of here.” 

 

“This may have potential. Clearly someone has noticed the Herald, perhaps there will be some use to come of these leads as well.” Solas offered. 

 

“Let us hope. We’ve wasted enough time in this city, the sooner we leave the better.” She sighed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xe val’z zmulc haf ryiddh clas smiz haf’ry qyzzulq ulza. = I don’t think you really know what you’re getting into.
> 
> Not very clear, probably but the concept is he only remembers how to use Vicious Mockery in infernal.


	5. Chapter 5

Cherish seemed almost a little disappointed when the trail he’d been following with interest led to a young Elven girl. Strangely enough, they at least seemed to understand each other whereas the rest of the group was completely lost by the exchange. 

 

“So wait...you’re not a Qunari?” She asked, leaning by the gate. “No Blaaah, must blindly follow this old dusty way of life or else!” 

 

Cherish seemed to be searching for the answer in the air in front of him, his tail coiled around his leg, tapping his chin in thought. 

 

“No, I don’t think I am. People where I come from aren’t too fond of them, so I must not be that, they like me well enough. I think? Maybe not…” he shrugged. 

 

“Yeah, never heard of a Qunari with a tail, plus, bit short for one, I bet.” She agreed. 

 

Cherish glanced down the length of his body, then back to Solas, sighing to himself. Out of the group, he seemed to be the shortest next to Varric. He’d always thought he was a bit taller than most, but it looked like that wasn’t the case after all. Grinning then, he gestured to his head. 

 

“I may not be tall, but I have more horns.” He said proudly, reaching to hold up his tail. “Also, I have this!” 

 

“Oh, I bet you could do loads of cool stuff with that, innit?” She asked curiously. 

 

“I think so anyway.” He said with a shrug. 

 

“Anyway, you seem cool enough. I’d like to join.” She said decisively. 

 

“Join what?” He wondered. 

 

“The Inquisition, silly!” She giggled. 

 

He glanced back to Cassandra as though wordlessly asking if he could invite her. She sighed, waving her hand in a way that suggested it was up to him. 

 

“Okay then, you should join, it’ll be fun!” He said excitedly. “I can’t go yet… I have to go somewhere boring first… you should go ahead.” 

 

She patted his shoulder when she passed him. “Don’t let it kill ya, alright?” 

 

He nodded slowly, heaving a desperate sigh before heading out, trying to figure his destination from the invitation he had received. Cassandra helped direct him, clearing her throat when they approached. 

 

“Do you need medicine?” He asked curiously. 

 

“No, but I wonder if you know just why this is…” she asked. 

 

“Fancy party.” He said. 

 

“Yes...actually.” She said, mildly surprised. “Have you… been to any  _ fancy parties _ ?” 

 

Cherish nodded slower this time. “Yes, but this place is boring. I don’t think this will be anything like master’s parties…” 

 

“Only one way to find out.” Varric said. 

 

“Is this place really all that good? It doesn’t look nearly as nice as home…” he sighed. 

 

“Well, Orlais is pretty boring.” Varric agreed. “Although when I think of home I think of Kirkwall.” 

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been there.” Cherish shrugged. 

 

“You might like it. Imperium used to be in charge. I hear you can still find plenty of their influence through the city. Statues anyway. Not the Knight-Commander, that came a few years ago.” He said dryly.

 

“The dragons?” He asked excitedly. “I adore the dragons, they’re so pretty.” 

 

“Nah, no dragons. Just people.” He told him. 

 

“Ah, well… I guess not everything can be dragons…” he sighed. “I guess I should go in…are you coming too?” 

 

“Yep.” Varric sighed, like he’d rather not. 

 

He stared at the door a moment longer, tilting his head to the sides like he was following something no one else could see, humming quietly to himself before he pushed the door open and stepped in. The group followed him in with Cassandra bringing up the rear. Cherish waited by the door to be announced, though it seemed to kill him to do so, bouncing restlessly on his toes, his eyes slowly searching the room for some sign of what exactly he was supposed to be doing here. He didn’t know the woman who invited him, so he wasn’t really sure who to look for. 

 

He stood off to the side, trying to look at least a little more like he was enjoying it. He grabbed a drink from a nearby servant, engaging some bored nobles in conversation like he’d been doing it his whole life. 

 

“I’ll never get used to just how he does that.” Cassandra said. 

 

“Clearly this is familiar enough to him that he feels comfortable.” Solas observed. “Perhaps the things he doesn’t recall as clearly upsets him in some way?” 

 

“Does the reason really matter? It’s disconcerting. I feel like he’s trying to trick us…” she muttered. 

 

“Not everyone is out to scam you, Seeker. The kid’s clearly been through some shit. Believe me, I’m pretty proficient in sensing bullshit and he’s not giving me that impression. Plus, he’s useful. Not just that weird mark, but I mean, did you see what he did? If he keeps that up, we’ll have more allies than we know what to do with, and didn’t Curly say we should try to expand the Inquisition’s influence?” Varric disagreed. 

 

“Ugh. I suppose so. It just feels strange to me that  _ this  _ is the person acting as our figurehead.” She sighed. 

 

Solas pointed towards a man that seemed to be attempting to confront Cherish. He recognized the look on his face as the same one from the courtyard earlier. “Look. He’s doing something.” 

 

“Admit it. Your Inquisition is a farce, no one that claims  _ peace _ as a goal needs a military.” The man laughed. 

 

Cherish giggled madly, his grin wide, pointed fangs on full display in a way that suggested he didn’t find it as threatening as the man seemed to think is was. He closed his eyes, a dangerous thing to do in a place like Orlais, where being attacked outright wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. 

 

“ _ Yaf waflv oruqmzylyv. Yaf wmafdv qa kyoary yjyrhaly wpyddw zmiz euww al haf.”  _ He said behind a louder laugh, clearly enjoying it. 

 

None could claim to understand just what he said, save for the man, who glanced down, looking around the room before he hung his head, opting to make a quick retreat rather than stick around. 

 

His eyes opened again, turning his attention to a woman descending the stairs. She smiled at him, nodding her head in a way that suggested she meant him to follow her. He looked to his companions, Varric gesturing him to follow her. He took that as a good enough sign, and followed curiously, bobbing his head slightly as he went. 

 

“Maker I really hope he knows what he’s doing. He may have some familiarity with these events, but Orlais is full of snakes and schemers...I’ve heard of her. She’s one of the worst…” Cassandra muttered. 

 

“Aw, so you  _ are  _ worried about him. I knew you cared.” Varric teased. “Still, he’s been in Tevinter, I doubt she’ll throw anything at him he won’t expect.” 

 

Some time later, Cherish returned alone, and Cassandra wasn’t sure what to make of it. He was still smiling at least, and looked none the worse for wear. She couldn’t attest to what she wanted in the first place, honestly. 

 

“What happened?” She asked. 

 

“Vivienne will be joining us at Haven. She’s not leaving right away, needs to pack.” He said. “I think we can go home now...I’m tired…”

 

“Me too, kid. Me too.” Varric admitted. 

 

“Still too far to get home tonight. We’ll have to make camp again.” Cassandra told him.

 

He puffed his cheeks out, frowning at that, though he made no attempt to complain about it anyway. He let Cassandra take the lead again, content to hang back with Varric and Solas, resuming his humming again after they’d left. 

 

“I’m hungry…” he complained. 

 

“Why didn’t you eat at the party?” Cassandra lectured. 

 

Cherish shrugged. “The only stuff I liked smelled like poison. I think someone else was supposed to have it.” 

 

“You can tell?” Varric asked. 

 

“Sometimes. Plenty of people tried to kill me and my master. I can usually tell by smell. Sometimes not. I can eat it, it just tastes icky.” He sighed. 

 

“You  _ eat _ poison?” Cassandra asked. 

 

“Sometimes.” He repeated. “Not sure why, but it doesn’ts hurt me.” 

 

“That can’t be good for you…” Varric said. 

 

He shrugged again, pausing to scratch near his horns slightly. “I don’t know.” 

 

“No wonder you’re alright with the food.” he commented. 

 

“Do you not like it?” He wondered. 

 

“ _ No one does! _ ” Varric told him, as though it were obvious. 

 

“Oh…” he nodded. “I’ll try to be suitably disappointed next time!” 

 

“We have a lot to teach you…” Varric sighed, shaking his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaf waflv oruqmzylyv. Yaf wmafdv qa kyoary yjyrhaly wpyddw zmiz euww al haf. = You sound frightened. You should go before everyone smells that piss on you.
> 
> Vicious Mockery, I’m tellin’ ya.


	6. Chapter 6

"You look troubled. What's wrong?" Leliana asked curiously. 

Josephine sighed, holding up several pages of parchment, shaking her head.

"I've received word from Tevinter." She said.

"That was fast." Leliana said. "Bad news?"

"Mixed." She sighed again. "I can confirm his master applied for citizenship. The name given for him is listed as Cherish Voidborn. His master is indeed a mage, or rather _was_. As of two weeks ago, he's now deceased. No indication of how he passed. However, they sent on a journal, and whatever he possessed that they deemed relevant. There's a key and a deed to his master's home in Qarinus, it seems he had no next of kin and passed it to him instead." 

Leliana reached for the journal curiously. She flipped through the pages curiously, her eyes widening progressively. 

"This can't possibly be true. It would be  _scandalous!"_  she told her. "Abandoned as a child in Seheron? Who would do such a thing?"

Josephine hung her head, handing her the other pages. "I've found out what The Velvet Fang is, and with the last piece included, I believe I have an answer for you. It's a brothel, just outside the border of Starkhaven..." she said, holding out a necklace. 

Leliana reached for it, examining it closely. The crest was familiar, one she'd seen most recently in Kirkwall in possession of a member of the ruling family. It appeared to be authentic, but this was unexpected to say the least. The family was mostly dead, save the youngest son and a cousin, last she knew. But if true, then there was indeed a closer heir to contest. 

"I wrote ahead and made some inquiries,  but I don't expect to hear back for awhile." Josephine admitted. 

"I'll send ahead some spies. I have some who are native to the area who may have more success. I'll dispatch some of my better infiltrators. A secret this big must have some very well hidden evidence. Likely no one looked hard enough to uncover them. Besides, however different he may be, there's no cause to abandon a child in a place like that...of course I see why they would want to hide him, and it makes sense not to outright kill him, but it's hardly better to take him where someone or something else will do it for them..." Leliana murmured. 

"Well, at least someone cared enough to take him in. And from the sounds of it, he wasn't wrong, his master genuinely seemed to care about him. I mean, there were some questionable things, but overall he cared. That was my impression, at least." Josephine said. 

The door opened, and Cullen walked in, busying himself with pinning more markers to the map, seeking not to really concern himself with their business initially. Until Josephine spoke. 

"What's your opinion of the Herald, Commander?" She asked.

He looked up, setting down the marker he held. Kneading the back of his neck slowly, he shrugged. 

"I don't know him all that well, honestly. He seems odd, but he's done nothing to warrant my concern with his conduct. People seem to like him well enough, some of my soldiers included. But personally? I'd have to get to know him better to have a solid opinion of him." He said finally. 

"I think I respect him a bit more. That much and you so rarely see him without a smile. When you do, it's never for long." Leliana admitted. 

"I only hope that when he gets his memory back, that doesn't change..." Josephine said. 

The door opened again, and Cherish poked his head in. He mumbled a quick apology, closing it again, knocking this time. He came back in, smiling tiredly. 

"Apologies, I forgot my manners." He said. "I've come back, and the shield maiden asked that I tell you it was a success. Two people came back, and there's a lady that said she has food to provide? And another lady talked to us too, said she was a Grand enchanter? I'm not sure if that means she's important or just really good at enchanting stuff?" 

"Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Leliana suggested.

"That's her!" He said excitedly. "She said maybe the mages might help. That they'd listen at least." 

Josephine sighed with relief. "We're finally getting somewhere. Good" 

Cullen was about to say something until his attention fell on the map. He pointed to one. "What's this?" 

He cleared his throat, unsure if he was asking about the situation or about the marker itself. "Some of my soldiers went missing there. It's quite a hostile ar-" 

"I can go get them for you?" He suggested. 

"There are undead and -" he tried to warn him. 

"I can do it. There's a guy outside that wants me to see his boss at the Storm Coast anyway, I can go there after this place." He told him. 

"Actually, I had a favor to ask you as well. Something to look into in the Hinterlands as well..." Leliana told him. 

"That's on the way up here to the coast? I'll stop there when I go back that way." He said cheerfully. 

Deciding his actions, he turned around, wandering out without a second thought. Leliana followed him out to provide him with some details.

"I didn't get a chance to warn him about the Avvar..." Cullen muttered. 

"He's going to come back. I guarantee you he's probably dealt with much worse. You two might have some common ground." Josephine said. 

"I mean I guess...I can't begin to imagine much." He told her. 

"Actually...you might be perfect. You frequent the Chantry, perhaps if you took him with you, you could help him." She said.

"Help? With what?" He snorted. 

"The Herald has an admitted fear of them. I'm not sure which part frightens him, but with you around to 'protect' him, he may get over it. He seems to like being around certain people, he may take to you." She suggested. 

"I'll consider it. If he comes back." Cullen sighed. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cherish admits he knows a bit more than he let on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. I like where this is going, but I'm starting to get nervous about messing it up now that I've got a solid direction.

__

Halfway to the Mire, Cherish helped set up the camp before retreating hastily to one tent. Vivienne retired to another, two scouts standing watch. Varric followed, curious for the reason he was so keen to get some rest when they got to Haven, only to change his mind and insist they set out again right away. About to go in, he paused. He could swear he heard sniffling just inside, but that didn't seem right. Cherish hadn't really been one to cry that he'd noticed.

Unsure what to do about it, he went in, startling him if the way he jumped, quickly pulling his hood up and rubbing at his eyes told him anything.

"You alright?" He asked hesitantly.

He said nothing immediately, shaking his head slowly. He could barely make out his lower lip quivering again like he was struggling not to start crying again. After a while, he took a slow, deep breath, steady enough to answer him.

"I overheard them." He said.

"What did you hear?" Varric wondered.

"Master died. I didn't know...I shouldn't have come. He didn't deserve it. I know who did it, I just...thought he was coming back for me, just like he said he would..." He muttered bitterly. " I don't know my father, and I can't remember much about my mother, I was young when the bad man came. Master was like my father, even called me 'son' but I was scolded for calling him dad, so I stopped..."

"So you do remember some things, but my guess is you don't want to share?" He asked.

"No one asked about my parents..." He shrugged. "My mom was...is? I don't even know if she's okay...she's very pretty, and her and the other people were very nice to me...she...was like Solas, sort of."

He pointed to his ears with a slight smile. Varric noted that was also the first time he could recall him actually using anyone's name. So his mother was an elf, if his hunch was right, his father was human, yet everything he knew said he definitely shouldn't have ears like that if he was elf blooded, but then he was really completely unlike anything he'd ever seen as it was.

"So then who is the bad man?" He asked, more to himself than anything.

"I don't know. He took me away, made me go to the Chantry, and they tried to drown me, when I tried to fight, they hurt me...a woman came with when he took me away. We went on a boat to Seheron, they said it was going to be a nice place, I'd have fun. But when I tried to follow, they made me stay. He said my father couldn't have me around, that no one could know I existed..." He pressed his thumb between his teeth, his legs shaking nervously, tail coiled tightly around the right. "I had a necklace my mother have me, she told me it was my father's, but master held onto it for me. Said it was important, and someday, he'd help me use it..."

Varric stayed quiet to process it. So far it all lined up with what his leading theory was. He supposed if he passed the information on to Leliana, she might be able to track it down. Help him figure out how best to use it too, if it was what he wanted. Then again, he had an idea of his own. Not that it would be of interest, but if he listened, if he believed him, and came to see for himself, he might like to know at least.

"Don't worry about that. I can help with that." He told him. "In the meantime, you never told us why we're going this way?"

He slowly pulled his hood back down, letting go of his thumb, reddened from being trapped under his sharper teeth. His tail slowly uncurled resting across his lap.

"Cullen said some of his men disappeared. He looked upset. I was sad, but I didn't like how bad he felt. He said there's undead. I can help..." He murmured.

Make that twice. Either something was happening or he simply didn't have a name for him yet. Could go either way. Didn't surprise him in the least for him to imply he could sense how he felt. A lot of people were like that, and it has nothing to do with magic, from what he'd seen. Cullen certainly did seem the type to be bothered by the situation, he wasn't the same as he used to be. Hell, he hardly believed it was the same guy sometimes. Same one who saw blood magic and even his own men as suspicious. Hard to imagine he'd ever change that much, at least in just a few years. Still. Cherish even had him fooled. Who knew he remembered that much and kept it to himself. Still wasn't much, but more than he'd implied.

At least it explained some things. For all he knew, he just forgot the worst of it, but maybe it somehow still shaped who he became. No indication how long he'd spent in Seheron, or how he got away, when his master came into the picture, or who it was who took him away. If his father was someone important after all, he couldn't just leave the kid well enough alone for that secret to get out, but he wouldn't have done his own dirty work.

Made sense too for such a deeply religious family to at least try to get the Maker to watch over him, and a mother coming with? To absolve the man of his guilt in the act, no doubt.

"Undead huh? Gotta say I've never heard of corpses taking anyone hostage, but with all this weird shit going on? Im not about to pretend I know what's going on with any of this. I think if we pull this off, he'll be pleased. How are you doing though? Any better? I'll admit I'm not liking seeing you sad either. Seems wrong. Some people have that sort of face I guess." He sighed.

Cherish squished his cheeks worriedly. "Is my face bad?"

Varric laughed, shaking his head. "Nah, you're just fine. It's a figure of speech. I grabbed my cards on the way out. What do you say we play a game. That should cheer you up, right?"

He smiled at that, nodding excitedly. Scooting closer, he sat on his knees, his palms flat against them, waiting patiently for him to finish shuffling them when he pulled them from his pocket.

"We'll start with something easy, and see how far we can get before you get too tired. I'll teach you something else on the way back. Chin up, alright? Remember, you said you can be anyone you want now. If I had a fresh start like that? I'd be a happy man. That's a story for another time though." He told him. 


	8. Chapter 8

The undead indeed stood very little chance. It was somewhat like he struck from shadows that didn't exist, vanishing only to reappear in a flurry of precise dagger blows, accented by the sway of his body like he could still hear music that was only for him. He'd managed to cut them a path, pausing only to seek shelter in an abandoned shack, taking a seat on what appeared to be a sack of grain.

Varric leaned against the wall with a sigh, fussing over Bianca almost obsessively, trying to ensure everything was functioning as it should. After a bit, Cherish stood up, pacing in front of a bookshelf, humming to himself with his head bent to the side to read the spines rather than take them out to look.

"Darling, what interest could those musty things have for you? Haven has plenty that undoubtedly smell better." Vivienne questioned.

"I like stories. Master told me plenty, though I can't read them well myself. It's hard..." He sighed.

"You can't read?" Varric asked.

"I can. It just takes me a long time. He taught me, but we never got as far as he wanted. It's very hard." He emphasized again.

"That...actually makes sense. I think." Varric shrugged.

"Ooh! I know this!" He said.

Bending to the lowest shelf, he picked up what appeared to be a drum, worn, but still plenty useable. Vivienne seemed wary of the idea of him taking it out there where he might conceivably lure in more undead than they had to. On the other hand, they had a mostly clear path towards the fort if they could avoid bringing attention to themselves. He looked it over thoroughly, before fixing it firmly to his belt with rope.

"I prefer things with strings, but these are fun too." He said decisively.

"You could leave it here for now. If you must have it, we could return after our business is concluded?" She suggested.

"Ah, let him have it. He seems to like it, and really, if he bothers the corpses, I'm sure he'll have no trouble taking them out." Varric said. "So what's the plan?"

He seemed surprised to hear the word, looking up, offering only a slow, confused blink initially. "Plan? I thought we'd just go up to the big fort and ask them to give us back the people?"

"That's no plan at all." Vivienne observed.

"Honestly, if it were anyone else, I'd agree. This guy could probably pull it off actually. Seen crazier things happen. If that didn't work, he might be able to just tell them off. That's worked before too." Varric said with a shrug. "Anyway, Bianca is fine, so I'm ready anytime."

"I wonder where the big man went?" He sighed. "Too bad, I thought to see if he wanted to come back too, too much rain here."

"Not even surprised at this point. Avvar scare people usually, and he likes them. I'm not sure he doesn't realize..." Vivienne sighed.

"He's just different. He's fine." Varric said dismissively.

Cherish swished toward the door, wrinkling his nose when the rain hit him again. "So chilly..."

Rather than rush like they assumed he might, he pulled his hood back up, returning to the path back towards the fort. When they reached it however, the door wouldn't open. Varric checked it for a lock, but there didn't seem to be one. When he turned back, Cherish was partway through climbing up before he scrambled out of view. He heard something heavy 'thunk' and the gate opened slowly. He slid back into view before hopping off the bridge. He landed somewhat awkwardly, nearly tipping over before he regained his balance, giggling like it was fun rather than dangerous. They waited for him to catch up before taking off any further in. Almost immediately inside, they heard him grunt, then yelp. Staring down at himself, he took stock of the arrows piercing his shoulder and side.

"Hey, are you gonna be -" Varric managed to ask.

He gripped the shafts, breaking them off and casting them to the ground.

"Only bad men attack before a fight begins..." He spat.

"That's true." Varric agreed.

"Master said that means I can kill." He replied.

"He wasn't wrong about that." He said.

"Good enough for me." He said.

Reaching for his daggers, the archers took aim again, confused when he vanished right in front of them. Varric and Vivienne took advantage, slinging spells and bolts at the confused archers, drawing their focus. The one who seemed to be in charge moved closer, lifting his weapon up, though he stopped.

Glancing down, he felt a dagger at his throat. No time to question it, it swept his throat, the other bursting through his chest, no hint of any kind of mercy. He reappeared from the shadows, walking over him slowly on his way to join the others, staggering a bit. He bent to retrieve the key, stumbling visibly by the time he reached the door. He unlocked it, urging them to go back to Haven.

"You don't look so good, you gonna make it?" Varric asked, grabbing his bolts off the bodies. "Shit..."

He managed to reach them, his hands covering the lower of the wounds, blood seeping between his fingers. He smiled warmly, nodding. "Sure, I'm-"

Varric managed to stop him from falling over completely, Solas moving closer to help carry him.

"Get him to the camp. Doubtless the scouts are trained in basic care. They should be able to stabilize him enough to make it back to Haven." He instructed.

"I got him." A voice called.

The man from before, Sky Watcher, he vaguely recalled. Maybe not. Only that he was funny. Had insulted Vivienne's choice of attire.

He reached for him, slumping him over his shoulder. "Lead me to your camp, lowlanders, I'm no healer, but my kin have supplies, I should be able to help."

"Your help is appreciated." Solas told him.

Varric led the way towards the camp on the outskirts of the mire, a relatively short trip with the roads cleared, the man dropping him gently by the fire before he wandered off to get supplies.

"Out cold." Varric said. Carefully pulling one of the arrows he could still grab out, he looked it over. Barbed, no wonder such unremarkable shots brought him down. "That's a lot of blood. Still, none of these look like they should be fatal, he'll be fine."

"I hope Cullen realizes that his fledgling soldiers could have cost the Herald his life." Vivienne muttered.

"This guy doesn't think like that. He wanted to help, he did what he set out to do, that's all he'll care about. Still, wouldn't hurt to remind him he can't be all that bad if he was willing to take this kind of injury for complete strangers." Varric agreed. Glancing at his shoulder, he looked over the wound. "I guess it's just lucky they aren't worse."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I apologize for all the errors. Been without electricity for a few weeks, and so I'm doing this from my phone. This phone loves to autocorrect everything and if I'm not careful it's really awful. Again, I apologize. My readers deserve so much better ;3;

The group arrived back in Haven, the Avvar man close behind, though he parted ways to go report in as a new agent. Varric and Solas were directed away long enough for a healer to get Cherish to his room for more complete help. Leliana started to head for the room until she saw Cullen shuffle guiltily in first, deciding her business could wait.

Cullen took a seat, hunched over like he was unsure what to do. Varric had wandered back in, leaned against the wall. The healer cut away the basic bandaging that had been applied, mildly unpleasantly surprised when one of his wounds began to bleed again, quickly covering it up again. It must have hurt, hearing him groan uncomfortably, trying to writhe away from the pressure.

"Respectfully, I'm not built to hold him down while I work, I could use a hand." The healer mumbled.

Cullen stood again, taking a single step closer, staring at him like he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do. Really he had just come by to see if he was awake. To thank him for going, saving his men, and in turn him from having to figure out how to pen letters expressing how sorry he was to deliver such awful news. This, though, this made him feel worse. He hadn't tried hard enough to warn him of the danger perhaps, or bothered to suggest he should be cautious of the very thing he had suffered.

The barbarian tribes were all fearsome, but the archers were known to be precise and vicious in the ways they struck. Some opted for poison, others, as he suspected, vile roots to prevent wounds from healing, so every shot counted. Varric held his vest and cloak, Cullen holding him down as instructed. It was an easy enough task in theory. In practice, he hated parts of it, drawn back into his worst times in the Circle, a very different part couldn't help but be a bit curious. He was slim, yet the way even now he tried to move, he could feel an almost uncanny strength to him, more than such a small frame was typically capable of holding.

Candlelight flickered strangely against his skin, his body almost mimicking what it looked like at night, shadows passing over starry skies, tinged in traces of blues, violets and near-black, save for the lines of ink on his skin, and the raised notch of scar tissue on his throat moving with his struggling, whimpering louder when his increasingly distressed attempts at movement were thwarted, his other wound tearing open again.

"This is no good. He keeps moving. No choice, have to cauterize these." The healer sighed.

Varric watched her heat something up, bracing for the noise that was sure to follow as it neared his skin. Cullen seemed to make the same realization too, applying more of his strength to holding him down, the sharp hissing sizzle of burning skin should have been met with deeply pained cries, yet Cherish stayed quiet, his skin concealing the burnt flesh almost immediately.

"That's different." Varric muttered.

"Have to look into this one more" the healer said in disbelief. "Never heard of anything like this before, but I guess he is the Herald, after all, it makes sense."

"That's a little eerie. Herald of Andraste, as in the lady who was burnt alive? Kid can somehow heal that quickly after being burned but almost not at all after being shot? Maybe it's just me but that comparison is a little spooky." Varric said.

Cullen had to admit it was a curious sort of link. If he really thought about it, the other bodies at the temple were burned beyond recognition, but he'd escaped completely unharmed, not so much as smoke stains on him or his clothes. That much had stumped even Leliana, among the first to suggest maybe he truly had been sent by the Maker, that it was fate itself for him to survive. He felt his muscles tense under his hands, then heard the quiet, raspy giggling. Pale eyes opened slowly, fixed on his, glancing down.

"That tickles..." He told him.

Cullen stared down at his hands like he hadn't quite registered it completely, pulling his hands away like he had burned him, though it was more the realization that he hadn't immediately let go.

"I'm sorry." He muttered hastily.

He turned like he was going to leave, perhaps let someone know he was conscious again. He felt a slight tug on his sleeve, turning to look. Cherish had it pinched in between his fingers, frowning. He looked far too serious without his usual smile. It definitely didn't suit him at all.

"Did...did they make it back okay?" He asked worriedly.

He gave a slight smile, nodding slowly to that. "Yes, they arrived early this morning. They had a particularly interesting story to offer about how you and the others killed their captors. They neglected to mention you were in such rough shape, however."

He checked himself, reminded of the injuries, seemingly mystified as to where they went, though it didn't seem as unusual that they were gone to him as it was to witness.

"That reminds me. I wanted to thank you. I never expected you would volunteer to go,let alone actually manage. We've had plenty of issues in the area, and I feared what would happen if it was left much longer. You saved them." He told him.

"Are you all better now?" He asked, a hint of a grin returning. "You don't feel like sadness now..."

"I..."He paused, confused by the statement. "I feel fine. Though that reminds me. I wasn't quite sure what to make of you, but I believe this tells me more than enough just what kind of person you really are. Herald or not, I cannot say, only that you aren't a bad person. No evil thing would waste the time on such a thing."

Cherish laughed at that, cocking his head. "Don't let my body fool you. Like I said, I'm not a demon, I try to be good, I like to help." He said.

"He does at that." Varric agreed. "I think the only one not happy about the trip is Viv."

"Don't I know it. She tried to ask Josephine to have her clothes laundered as a business expense. ' It's Orlesian silk. Do you know how much effort it will take to clean these and remove that foul smell?' " he added almost mockingly. "Who even wears Orlesian silk to a bog?"

"The Ice Lady?" Cherish chimed in curiously.

"Absolutely right." Varric told him encouragingly.

"I'll get up soon. I promised the pretty bird I'd find her a shiny warden." He said after a moment.

Cullen frowned at that. "You took some pretty serious injuries. Maybe it's best if you don't get up right away?"

"Agreed." The healer said. "At least for tonight. I want to keep tabs on your condition."

"That...that's so boring though..." Cherish pouted.

"Not everything is fun. Sadly." Varric sighed. "Get some rest."

Reluctantly letting go of Cullen's sleeve, he sighed, an exaggerated sound, flipping his head back against the pillow. It was clear he didn't like that suggestion, but he intended to do as he was told. No real surprise there, perhaps.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not really sure about this chapter. I may change it up a bit eventually, but for now it’s alright I guess.

Leliana dropped by in the morning, leaving a fresh change of clothes, his cloak damaged in the Mire, she thought to have it repaired for him while he was away. He leaned back against the wall, prodding himself to check for pain, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. 

 

“Are you feeling better this morning?” She asked. 

 

“Yes, much better.” He replied cheerfully. 

 

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. You gave us quite a scare.” She told him. 

 

Standing with a lazy stretch, he checked the clothes curiously. Standard leather breeches and a fairly sturdy chest piece, not too heavy, plenty flexible for movement. Looking at the back of the bottoms, he sighed appreciatively. Someone took the time and effort to tailor a hole in the back for his tail. He turned his back to her, seemingly unbothered by the presence of someone around while he dressed. 

 

Leliana scoured his back, her brows lowering curiously. She stood up, walking closer to examine him up close. He stopped short of putting the armor on, glancing over his shoulder at her. 

 

“May I?” She asked, her hand hovering just over his skin. 

 

Cherish nodded slowly, eyeing her movements warily, unsure what she intended to do. Her fingers were gentle, sweeping across the curious scarring on his shoulder, his shoulders raising in response. She took note of the mark peeking out from his hair, shifting it aside. Yes, she knew the mark well, the crest of the Vael family right there on his skin, but it didn’t appear to be a tattoo, more like a birthmark, if she had to say, but what a strange thing, unheard of really. 

 

“Do you recall how you got injured?” She asked instead. 

 

He already said he didn’t know where he came from, the odds were good he would have no idea about the mark, let alone what it looked like, or what it appeared to indicate. He took a half step away, setting the armor back down, in favor of pulling off his trousers, bending to stick his legs through. Her expression momentarily shifted, both wondering a bit about his apparent lack of modesty that most seemed to have. Her job was to learn what she could, and details of all variety were her business. The undergarments he wore were edged in lace, black and not at all typical of this region, as with the breeches, slitted in the back to allow his tail room to move. 

 

“Injured? That wasn’t an injury.” He told her. 

 

“Clearly something happened?” She probed. 

 

He nodded, reaching to brush his fingers over the scarring slowly. 

 

“I entertained a guest that had a fondness for punishment. I was bad,” he told her conversationally. 

 

The door opened, Josephine carrying a small tray, Cullen filing in right behind, both unsure what to make of the Herald, pants up to his knees, Leliana hovering behind him, though he seemed not to realize the situation was anything but ordinary. 

 

“I stopped by to bring you something to eat.” Josephine said. 

 

“Thank you.” He chirped. 

 

“I’ve brought reports…” Cullen said, clearing his throat. 

 

Cherish finished with the laces, his tail waving slowly, bent slightly to retrieve the armor again. 

 

“Was there anything else you wanted to see?” He questioned curiously.

 

“No, I believe I’ve got my answers.” Leliana told him. “I have matters to see to.” 

 

She put a hand on Josephine’s arm, discreetly nodding toward the chantry on her way out, a signal that she had something to discuss when she was done. 

 

Josephine set the tray down on a bedside stand, apologizing for such a brief visit. Cullen stares at the door with a heavy sigh. Of course they’d just leave him, and this time not even Varric was around to divide his focus. He cleared his throat, kneading the back of his neck. It wasn’t that he was worried about being left alone with him, he wasn’t exactly the type to attack someone who didn’t deserve it, but at that same time he wasn’t really sure what to say, considering the way they’d walked in on him, trousers to his knees, bare from head to waist,  _ racy _ underwear on full display, what did one say in such a situation? 

 

“Reports?” He said quizzically. 

 

He shook his head, trying to bring his focus back, holding up the pile of papers with a nod. He exhaled slowly when he finally looked elsewhere, his attention on the tray, not the usual fare, maybe the nice lady from Val Royeaux provided it today, slices of fresh vegetables and bits of fruit, a glass of tea on the side. The sound he made was one he could only assume was approval, eagerly picking at the sliced carrots first, the soft crunching noises distracting enough to make him forget about the reports for a moment. That wasn’t what  _ he _ got for breakfast, in fact he was plenty sure everyone else got something different. 

 

“Do you not eat goat?” He asked curiously. 

 

Cherish shook his head slowly. “Uh-uh. I don’t eat meat. It’s bad for me, I guess?” 

 

“Says who?” He asked, finding it an odd thing to hear. 

 

“Master says fruits and vegetables are good for someone like me, that it would be better than heavy foods, I don’t need to be bulky?” He answered, reaching for a piece of apple next. “But I like yummy things.” 

 

Cullen set the reports down next to him, waiting patiently for him to read through them and instruct him as to what he intended for them. Cherish glanced to them, picking them up. He said nothing out loud, watching the way his lips moved, faltering, shaking his head and then attempting again. Finally, he growled irritably, huffing our through his nose. 

 

“Guard rot...rata...rotation around…” he tried, setting it back down, pushing them away like they were troubling him.

 

His shoulders raised, squeezing together, his focus on the tea now. 

 

He said nothing, seeming to realize after a moment that he couldn’t quite read it, hesitantly reaching for the pile again. 

 

“Guard rotations around the perimeter, I have the numbers, I need to know if they should be increased. Do you...feel safe enough here?” He asked. 

 

“Yes, I feel fine...if you think more guards are best, it’s alright, I’m sure you know best.” He murmured. 

 

“Very well, I’ll make a note of it. We have a request for more healing supplies, the blacksmith would like any iron that can be delivered and Flissa needs to resupply the whiskey, I guess.” He read through the others slowly. 

 

“I...yeah, that should all be fine?”he shrugged. “When I get done with this other business, what am I supposed to do?” 

 

Cullen glanced up from the reports, watching the way he sank down in his seat, occupying his focus with a lone curl, chewing his lip nervously. 

 

“Well, it would seem Josephine is in the middle of arranging a meeting with Fiona in Redcliffe, and Leliana is looking into where the Templars have disappeared to. It’s your choice who you choose to approach for help.” He told him.

 

He didn’t miss the hint of reluctance to the statement. Cherish watched him in silence, he felt heavy again, and it made his stomach hurt. He stood up, taking one, two steps closer, holding out an apple slice in offering. He squatted down to meet his eyes, he took the fruit, but only because the idea of making him look sad again felt wrong. It seemed to please him in some way, that brought his smile back. 

 

“Do you want me to find them?” He asked seriously. 

 

He held back the nod he wanted to offer immediately, he had no doubts if he said such a thing he could do it, but after how he returned the last time he made an offer like that, he was injured. Templars were fearsome fighters, in the event they turned hostile, he could doubtless come back much worse off, if he came back at all.

 

“That’s your decision. I can’t influence you like that.” He refused. 

 

“I don’t know much about the kind here...I only know those back home...the Templars are bound to inaction in most cases, and the mages are well educated and largely free...sometimes they’re mean, but most are fine. Master is-  _ was _ \- very kind to me, he saved me…” he explained. I only ever met one Templar before I got here, and she wasn’t very nice.”

 

“Well, what do you think of me?” He asked, hoping it might offer him a different view. “I was a Templar. I only recently left the order.” 

 

Cherish smiled widely at the question. “You’re nice. I like you a lot.” 

 

He idly ate the slice of apple, seeming to realize he still hadn’t touched it. He stood up then, heading for the door finally. “Well, there you go. You know a Templar who isn’t ‘not very nice’, make of that what you will.” 

 

He stood up, returning to his tray to finish his breakfast, preparing to round up Solas, Varric and Cassandra for the trip to the Hinterlands to find the warden for Leliana before heading to the Coast. 

 

Elsewhere in the Chantry, Leliana sat on the edge of the table, relaying her findings, the strange marking, the odd garments, and the story he told about the scar, unsure what to make of the pieces, nothing concrete at least, only hesitant guesses. 

 

“Say he  _ is  _ a Vael. We have the foundation to make an argument in that case, but that still doesn’t explain why…” Josephine trailed off, unwilling to finish the statement. 

 

“Why he looks the way he does. That’s the million sovereign question, isn’t it? How would a human, or potentially elf blooded child come to look like that?” Leliana sighed. “I’m at a loss. The only thing I’ve ever heard like this are fairy stories about Ages past. Kingdoms that begged favor of demons, to keep the power in their families. The consequences of it were said to be that their heirs took on a far more devilish appearance. But of course they were unproven and there was no mention in at least a hundred years. Besides, could you truly picture such a devout person having an affair, let alone bargaining with demons for power? He’s gone, if he had, clearly it didn’t work.” 

 

“I suppose our best option while we wait, would simply be to hope that he recalls something. I doubt it, but maybe he is aware of what he is?” Josephine suggested. 

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

“He’s gone already?” Josephine asked, muffling a yawn. 

 

“Yes, he set off about an hour ago.” Leliana confirmed. “I don’t understand where he gets so much energy from. Like he was ready to take on the world.” 

 

“Perhaps he’s just the type who likes to stay busy…” Cullen mumbled, ruffling his hair. 

 

“Like someone else we know?” Leliana said pointedly. 

 

“That’s…” he began, about to insist it was simply because he had a lot to deal with. “I suppose that’s fair.” 

 

He gestured to the worn journal on the table, trying to will the last of his tiredness away mentally. 

 

“Have you figured anything useful out from that yet?” He inquired. 

 

Josephine scooped it up with a slow nod. “Fascinating, actually. I’ve got a rough timeline. If this is accurate, he was only about ten when the slavers plucked him out of Seheron. His master purchased him largely out of curiosity. Wasn’t in the market, it seems to suggest he had no interest in owning slaves, but he felt compelled to have him.” 

 

“Ten?” He said, squeezing the bridge of his nose to avoid pointing out just how terrible that seemed. 

 

“Yes. But it has no indication of how old he was when he was dropped off. Based on what little we know, I very much doubt he’d have been allowed to remain that long if someone was concerned about him being discovered, I can’t imagine he was much more than a few years old at most, so it’s possible he was in Seheron for several years before he was discovered.” Leliana added. 

 

“He’s been in the Imperium for around sixteen years, and I gathered he wasn’t always this way. His master states early on that he could barely talk, couldn’t read, and he had a lot of aggression. It makes a lot of sense on the overall picture, I’ve heard terrible stories of those who live long enough to leave that place. Few are untouched by trauma and often physically damaged. To escape as intact as he appears, he was either very lucky or someone was watching out for him.” Josephine explained. 

 

“It looks like it wasn’t a very long time before much of that aggression went away and he could teach him. Strangely enough, it seems he has a gift for speech, however. It’s noted here that it took only two weeks of trying before he picked up the language. I’m given to understand he also appears to be fluent in Tevene and Orlesian as well, but for whatever reason he never picked up on reading. He can’t write very well either, but he’s good in tracking, combat and even appears to have some proficiency in musical endeavors.” Leliana said. “In short, our Herald is a spy.” 

 

“That does make some sense. I wonder…” Cullen said. “Does it mention anything about a Templar? He made mention to meeting one who wasn’t very kind.” 

 

Leliana grinned impishly at him, curling her fingers under her chin. “My, commander. That sounds a bit like you’re interested.” 

 

He rolled his eyes, sweeping his hand through his hair. “Don’t we have more important matters to see to than teasing me for your amusement?” 

 

“Not specifically.” Josephine answered. “However, I have a suspicion it relates to an incident later on. His master reports that he’d sent him out to fetch some things from the market for his work, and it took much longer than usual. He  _ crawled _ home, bruised and bloody. He refused to say what happened, only that a woman told him he was an abomination and shouldn’t exist, and had attacked him.” 

 

She flipped a few pages, gesturing towards the bottom. “Not long after that, he was given those daggers and given permission to protect himself at any cost.” She added. 

 

“I see. Strange…” he muttered, moving a few marks on the map idly. “I guess that means we’re not the first to mistake him for a demon, at least.” 

 

“I wish I had more, but it’s been so busy we haven’t had much time to read through this. I had Leliana send some men to the Imperium to check into his master’s home to see what they might find there. As you can imagine, it will take some time,” Josephine told him. 

 

“What is it you think they’ll find. This master sounds rather less offensive than most, and you have his journal, clearly someone was already in there, surely there’s little else to find.” Cullen asked. 

 

“There’s plenty of things that most overlook. Anything can tell you something if you look closely.” Leliana explained. “The Herald, for instance. I can tell plenty about him just from observing.” 

 

“Such as?” He snorted in disbelief. 

 

“He’s curious, yet somehow innocent in some ways. He perceives things as though they’re games, indicating he doesn’t view them as we do. I’ve noticed he’s plenty capable of acting in a logical and mature way. He believes himself innately good and follows directions quite seriously. And beyond that, I also know he thinks quite highly of you.” She said. 

 

“I thought we were being serious here.” Cullen snorted. 

 

“I  _ am _ . I’ve seen how he acts, certain people get more lukewarm reactions, others, like Varric, you, and thanks to the snacks, Josephine…we get warmer reactions, but you’re the only one he hasn’t displayed any sign of hesitation. Granted we  _ did _ make him sit through having his hair trimmed and washed…” she explained. 

* * *

Cherish crosses his legs, sitting quietly. Varric day to his right, Cassandra on his left. Solas had left for the night, and in his place, the warden Blackwall. He scratched idly at the log behind his back, tail thumping against the ground lazily. 

 

“So...you’re…” Blackwall began quietly. “Herald of Andraste. Tevinter, did I hear?” 

 

Cherish flashed a grin that left his teeth pressed against his lip lightly. “Yes, that’s me!” 

 

Varric laughed more to himself than anything. Cassandra kneaded her temples with a sigh. 

 

“You’re a warden.” He said seriously. His expression became more confused, shrugging. “I’m not sure what that means, actually.”

 

“They kill darkspawn and stop blights.” Cassandra told him. 

 

“Oh.” He said. 

 

His tone made it somewhat unclear if he was or wasn’t sure what that meant, the simplicity of the statement unhelpful as well. 

 

“Well…” Blackwall said. “Guess I’ll turn in for now.” 

 

Varric laughed again. “Interesting reaction at least. Not the usual, but that was the fastest I’ve seen anyone leave yet.”

 

“That  _ was _ pretty quick.” Cherish hummed quietly. “What do you think they’re doing back there?” 

 

Varric shrugged a shoulder. “Strip poker.” 

 

He cocked his head curiously. “Do you think?” 

 

“No, just pulling your leg.” He said. “Boring stuff. Paperwork and training probably.” 

 

“There should be music. Pretty music, and good food, and nice ladies in pretty dresses. People in colorful suits. Stuff like that.” He said thoughtfully. 

 

“You want a party?” Varric asked. 

 

“Absolutely  _ not _ .” Cassandra snorted. “If Josephine heard you, she would -  _ ugh _ . Just...no.” 

 

Varric grinned at her reaction. Cherish shook his head. “No, not a party, those are bigger, grander. Just...alive.” 

 

His old home had to be one hell of an interesting place, if that was his idea of ‘alive’. Throw in good booze and yeah, that definitely sounded like the perfect idea of ‘alive’ to him too. 

 

He sneezed suddenly, wiggling his nose slightly. “Sorry…” 

 

Varric raises a brow. Not precisely what he’d have chosen in his place, but not his place to bother with the etiquette. “Someone must be talking about you.” 

 

He cringed a little bit. “That’s scary.” 

 

“I’m only joking.” He assured him. 

 

He giggled a little at that. “I know. You’d be sneezing more if that was true.” 

 

Varric shivered slightly. “You’re  _ right _ . That is a little spooky.” 


	12. Chapter 12

Cherish didn’t seem to like the Storm Coast, withdrawing completely into the safety of his cloak, pulling the edges closer with a soft whine.

 

“Too cold?” Varric inquired.

 

He shook his head. “No, I just don’t like rain. It’s unpleasant and it makes me feel sad.”

 

“That, I can understand.” Cassandra sighed. “I’m not fond of it myself.”

 

“Seeker, did I hear you right, are you actually relating to him now?” Varric gasped jokingly.

 

“Shut it, Varric.” She groused. “On another note, were you really awake all night?”

 

He nodded with an almost proud grin. “I don’t need to sleep. I just like to sometimes. I like my dreams.”

 

“Now that would be an interesting topic to explore further.” Solas commented. “To know what it is you dream about would be fascinating, I’m certain.”

 

“I’ll admit I’m a little curious too.” Varric shrugged.

 

He seemed confused by the interest in it, but he appreciated the distraction, slipping down the wet banks with a strange sort or ease before he scratched at his horns, making his ‘thinking’ face.

 

“Last time, I dreamt I was home. All the bookshelves, and the pretty crystals and the fancy tables. The range out in the yard, and the pretty clothes…” he sighed.

 

“Leliana would be the one to ask if you’d like nicer clothes. She has plenty of connections around Thedas.” Cassandra suggested. “I hear she has a fondness for shoes in particular.”

 

“I do like shoes…” he mumbled thoughtfully. “I had a whole shelf of them. And nice suits, some pretty dresses and even a hat.”

 

“Dresses…?” Cassandra wondered.

 

“It’s part of my job. If someone comes after the people I care about, I have to blend in. People know what I look like.” He said as though it should be obvious.

 

She made an odd face as she presumably tried to imagine him in some frilly Orlesian dress, horns and tail on full display, his skin like a beacon pointing out that he was different if the rest didn’t give it all away.

 

“I don’t think she believes you.” Varric chuckled.

 

“Forgive me, shield maiden. I don’t have any pretty clothes to prove it, I only have this attire.” He said apologetically. “I’ll show you later! The nice vendor in haven might have something I can use. Oh! Look, it’s the man I saw in Haven!”

 

He rushed ahead excitedly, no doubt eager for a chance to say hi again. He skidded to a stop when he noticed the Qunari man fighting in the group too. He took a few steps back to watch curiously for a few moments before he bit his lip, grabbing his daggers with a gleeful laugh, jumping into the fray to play with the others too, oddly no sign of hesitation for his adopted countrymen. Cassandra sighed, watching him closely.

 

“Well, I’ve never seen you look at anyone that way, Seeker.” Varric joked.

 

“I’m responsible for him, Someone has to make sure he doesn’t go home less a few limbs.” She muttered.

 

“You just haven’t let yourself get to know him yet. Even Madame de Fer finds him charming. They spoke for quite sometime on the way to the bog. Curly even spoke to him.” Varric said pointedly. “And look at that, already made friends with a guy who should be his enemy.”

 

Sure enough, Cherish sat back on some downed driftwood, seemingly engaged in very serious discussions with the man, until they both broke out laughing over something they couldn’t quite hear at this distance. After a time, he rushed back over with him, beaming with pride at whatever it was he managed.

 

“This is The Iron Bull.” He announced. “Him and his friends are coming home with us!”

 

“Wonderful. We can leave now.” Cassandra said.

 

“Oh, that means we can get out of the rain before we stop for the night?” Cherish asked hopefully.

 

“Well, given how many friends you’ve made, we may as well go to an inn for the night. We’ll only attract unwanted attention out in the open like this.” Cassandra suggested.

 

“A few hours back, I saw one earlier.” Cherish told her. “I like the good beds more anyway.”

 

“Funny story. Krem actually told me you were a short Qunari.” Bull said conversationally.

 

“I’m not that short, am I? I used to think I was pretty tall…” he pouted.

 

“Well, yeah. But I guess if you’re around humans all the time, you probably are pretty tall. Everyone else looks pretty short next to Qunari and elves.” He explained. “But no, you’re totally short. Bet that’s why people like you so much. Got that baby face and everything.”

 

Cherish tried to look down, pinching his cheeks curiously. Varric already knew it wasn’t the first time he was hearing that sentiment, but it seemed he still didn’t understand what it meant.

 

“He’s saying you have a cute face that people really like.” Varric finally told him.

 

“Well, I dunno if I’d have gone with ‘cute’, but sure.” Bull said.

 

“Oh. I feel like I used to be handsome. I can’t really remember…” he mumbled quietly. “Maybe cute is better?”

 

“Depends.” Varric shrugged. “Some people, like yours truly are rugged and handsome. It appeals to plenty of people. Cute can be great too.”

 

“Yeah, lots of people like cute. Cute makes people feel like they’re protecting something vulnerable. Like a rabbit, I guess. Those are supposed to be cute, right?” Bull added.

 

“I didn’t think you were into cute, chief.” Krem laughed. “But generally, I would agree. Rabbits are cute. I don’t know. Flowers, animals, shoes, I’ve heard plenty of things.” Pausing, he looked him over for a moment. “Bit thin, small framed, the scars, learn to use that to your advantage, and you’d have most of Thedas wrapped around your little finger.

 

“Must you encourage him to be more like him than he is now?” Cassandra snorted.

 

“He has a point.” Solas added. “Much of history is filled with examples of such a thing. Those who can blend in as needed or play up their strengths, even physical, are often rewarded richly in information if nothing else. In short, he’d be an asset to Leliana with certainty. Though he has also proven he can be diplomatic after a fashion,and that he’s tactful and quick in combat. He could be a key piece with or without the mark, actually.”

 

“I did not think you thought so highly of him. I won’t deny he is useful enough. Only that I did not count on dealing with someone so…” she stopped, shaking her head. “He’s fine. You are correct, he serves the Inquisition well.”

 

“That’s about the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say…” Varric mused.

 

“It’s okay. She reminds me of someone I knew back home. She’s nice, but she acts grumpy. She just doesn’t want people to see how nice she is.” Cherish said knowingly.

 

She stopped for a moment, staring at him. Varric knew he had to have hit it right on the head with that surprisingly intuitive bit. Solas interrupted the silence, pointing up ahead.

 

“It would seem we’ve found the inn.” He announced.

 

“I’ll go get the rooms then.” Cassandra grunted.

 

“I don’t need one…” Cherish said after a moment. “I could just sit outside, it’s nicer here. No rain.”

 

Varric shook his head. “Curly and Ruffles would be upset if you didn’t have a room. The nightingale, well...better if you don’t think of what she might do.”

 

“But it’s cheaper for her if I don’t have one…” he observed.

 

“If it bothers you that much, I’ll let you share my room. You’re usually pretty quiet.” Varric shrugged.

 

“Can we play again tonight?” He asked curiously.

 

Varric felt his pockets, clicking his tongue softly when he felt it. “Yeah, sure.”

 

Bull perked up at that. “If you’re betting, I’m in.”

 

Cassandra stuck her head out the door. “Some of us will have to share, they did not have enough rooms for everyone.”

 

“I miss my old room.” Cherish sighed.

 

“You haven’t even seen these ones yet.” Varric told him.

 

“I know, but still…” he pouted.

 

“You’ll survive.” Varric said, patting his shoulder.


	13. Chapter 13

The large group returned to Haven in the middle of the afternoon, the Chargers going to settle in and look around. Cassandra and Solas split off, and Varric seemed to have something to attend to, leaving Cherish in the middle of the village looking lost as to what he was supposed to be doing. 

 

Unsure what else to do, he wandered over to the tavern, taking a seat. It felt different being by himself. He couldn’t explicitly recall ever once being told he  _ had _ to do anything before, but he liked the structure of a busy routine. Coming back was nice, something like returning home after a long day, but it meant little enough to do while he waited. He drummed his fingers on the roughly textured table, humming to himself. Flissa made her way over, setting a drink in front of him. 

 

“Thank you.” He said. 

 

“No need, I hear you’ve been busy.” She said with a smile. 

 

“I have, it was a very long trip…” he sighed. “Getting here was a long trip too…” 

 

“I can imagine. Well, you came to the right place to unwind.” She assured him, excusing herself when a few patrons signaled her. 

 

Cherish stared at his drink blankly, taking a drink. For just a few moments he felt like he was on the cusp of recalling something important, but it slipped away. It was starting to trouble him. The small things were easy, things that were of little importance to most flowed like water, but the big things, what he really wanted to know felt just out of reach. Not even just him, he felt like he was letting the pretty bird down, the princess too, they seemed so curious to know, and he had no answers. He remembered feeling a little disappointed in himself whenever he fell short. This was no exception. 

 

The door swung open, several moments passing before the sound of footsteps said whoever it was had finally come in. A shadow stretched across the table, and the chair scraped the floor, taking a seat across from him. Cherish glanced up from his drink, slouched over it in contemplation. Seeing the Commander in front of him sent a small rush through his whole system, forcing him bolt upright, politely folding his hands in his lap. He wasn’t any kind of military, he didn’t know what was proper, but good posture and manners seemed like a fine place to start. 

 

“I’m sorry!” He blurted hastily. 

 

Cullen’s brows knitted together in confusion, his lips twitching for just a moment like he had to fight a sudden urge to laugh. Or perhaps smile, who knew, he seemed to do little enough of both. It made him a bit curious as to what could prompt such a near reaction. 

 

“What are you sorry for?” He questioned finally. 

 

“I...I’m not sure.” He admitted. “Am I not supposed to be here? I should have stopped in the big room first…?” 

 

“You’re  _ fine.”  _ He said. “You had a long trip, accomplished a lot, no one expects you to jump right to the next objective without a chance to unwind first…” 

 

“I don’t have to go yet?” He asked. 

 

“No, not yet. Honestly, we’re at a loss for what to do until we’re able to secure some aid as it is. You may have more free time for a while.” He told him. 

 

”Oh…” he sighed. “I see…”

 

Cullen figured that might excite him a bit more, instead he seemed unsure what to do with that. Almost uncomfortable with the idea. He supposed he could understand that. Unlike Josephine or Leliana, he didn’t find the down time nearly as refreshing. Having nothing to do made him anxious, tense. 

 

Flissa buzzed by again, setting a drink in front of Cullen, looking at him curiously. “This is a first, I’ve never seen you in here before! Thank you for stopping by!” 

 

Before he had a chance to refuse or ask any questions, she was gone again, and he stared at the drink uneasily. Really, he had intended only to drop by long enough to discuss a matter relating to his rather sparse history. While he was away, they’d taken to questioning some of the recruits and scouts, and it had yielded some information, but Josephine wanted Cherish to meet them, at least see if any might recall seeing a child that resembled him. Despite his protestations that it was almost certainly not going to help, she had won out. 

 

Cullen reluctantly took a drink. There was still a lot of time left to the day, he should be busy. He wanted to go before anyone mistakenly thought he was taking a break. 

 

“What about the Templars?” He asked. 

 

He took another drink, his nose wrinkling slightly at the bitter after taste. When it passed, the corner of his mouth pulled up slowly, his smile back again.

 

“I do want to pursue them. Even though it was bad enough for me to leave the Order, they’re still…” he trailed off. 

 

He looked him over silently. He was slim, lean muscle on a slim frame, and while he was definitely a knowledgeable fighter, the memory of the way he arrived after helping with something, for him nonetheless, it wasn’t his place or his life at risk. If it didn’t feel like poison on his tongue, he might have said ‘go after the mages’ but maybe a small part of him hoped he’d reach that conclusion on his own. If they stepped out of line, and they probably would, he could easily put them in their place. That much armor in the way would be a problem. He didn’t like the idea of having mages everywhere. 

 

“You’re upset.” Cherish observed. “Have I…?” 

 

He immediately shook his head, taking a long drink as if to suggest everything was just fine. It didn’t seem to work. How was anyone supposed to know just how well he could find those things pushed aside. 

 

“No, I was just thinking.” He said. 

 

He quirked his brows, tipping his head enough to twist his curls slowly. “Do you want to play a game?” 

 

Cullen sighed, shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid I don’t have that much time. In fact…” he took another long drink, trying to finish it quickly. “I meant to get you. Leliana had something to discuss.” 

 

“I found her a Warden like she wanted, is that what she needed?” He asked. 

 

“No, it’s...well to be honest, it’s about you, really.” He admitted. “Lady Montilyet has asked that I mention she received some snacks from Rivain waiting.” 

 

Really, it almost seemed like she was trying to bribe him with sweets. Maybe it was to make up for scaring him? 

 

“About me?” He asked, grinning excitedly at the mention of snacks. “I’ll hurry.” 

 

That was really all it took? If only everyone was so easy to motivate. A good baker would be all he needed to whip his recruits into proper form… 

 

“I’ll walk you over after you’re finished.” He said after a moment. 

 

“You want to go with me?” He asked, seemingly surprised. 

 

“Well I’m going to the same place.” He said. 

 

“Oh...that’s true.” He hummed. “I’m almost done…” 

 

“Don’t rush.” He said. Finishing his own drink, he leaned back in his seat, looking at him seriously. “Do you miss it, Tevinter, I mean?” 

 

Cherish traced the rim slowly, thinking it over. “I do, but maybe not. I like it here, the only thing I really miss is being at the house.”

 

“What’s different here, aside from your master?” He asked, the word harsh and uncomfortable on his tongue. “What would make it better for you?” 

 

He smiled, taking a drink, finishing his drink.”I’m fine, really.” He said. Thinking about it a little more, he sighed. “I’m all alone. I don’t like that very much.”

 

Cullen moved to stand, waiting for the Herald to round the table, following him out. He noticed the way he tapped his fingers against his thighs, humming under his breath again. He seemed to do that a lot. It made him a little curious as to what it was that was in his head that often. Yes, the more he considers it, he seemed to be doing no real harm, and he had set his opinion of him finally. For as strange as he appeared to be, he figured he liked him well enough, which was high praise from him. At least according to Leliana. She was of the mind that he didn’t much care for anyone. Generally true, but he was a different story. He didn’t mean to end up involved in any of this, had been dragged into it and rather than be upset he was eager to be useful, more than willing to help even when he should still be trying to adjust. Whatever his story was, he was indeed good. That was his thoughts on the matter. 

  
  
  



	14. Chapter 14

Cherish leaned against the wall anxiously. There were a lot of people here, more than he recognized at the very least. Leliana looked them over curiously. At least one was absolutely not old enough to be of much use, she was sure, but the others were old enough, at least. 

 

“Am I in trouble?” He asked quietly. 

 

He usually expected to be in trouble when he was called into this room. Josephine shook her head slowly. 

 

“No, we just had something we wanted to explore. It may be nothing, but we want to be thorough.” She explained gently. 

 

“Oh...if that’s all…” Cherish murmured with relief. 

 

“I don’t suppose you recall your mother’s name?” Leliana asked. 

 

“Célia.” He said after a few minutes, finger tucked under his chin, deep in thought at the question. “I think that was it…” 

 

“Does that sound familiar?” She asked the gathered group. 

 

Most looked unsure, but one nodded. “I remember her.” 

 

Cullen raised a brow at that. Honestly, this seemed a complete waste of time, but for someone to actually know his mother? It seemed almost impossible. 

 

“What can you tell us about her?” Josephine inquired. 

 

He eyed Cullen nervously, clearly unsure if he should answer with him right there. He waved a hand as if to tell him to just answer the question. 

 

“She’s...well, I mean she…” he trailed off, rubbing his arm slowly. “She works at the brothel. Does a bit of healing on the side.” 

 

“Does the Herald look familiar to you in any way?” Leliana probed. 

 

He took a long look at him, scratching his chin. It was such a long time ago. Actually...yeah, if he imagined him much younger, he kind of did look familiar. 

 

“Célia had a son, just a little thing. If she was busy, someone else watched him for a while, I think? I didn’t see much of him. Quiet kid, didn’t really bother anyone.” He said with a shrug. “She was from some little clan in Orlais, I guess. Went to Starkhaven, clan was killed I think and didn’t want to risk ending up someone’s servant, or in an alienage.” 

 

Cherish wasn’t quite sure if he was supposed to remember this man, he didn’t even remember Starkhaven, but it at least sounded familiar, like a place he might have been once? 

 

“What do you think, Herald?” Josephine asked. 

 

He shook his head apologetically. “I’m very sorry, Princess. I can’t remember it well. It’s hard to think that far back…” 

 

“No, it’s alright. We knew it might be a long shot, but it was a lead anyway.” She sighed. “I’m very sorry.” 

 

He looked surprised to hear that, immediately shaking his head, his hands waving in emphasis. “No! You don’t need to be sorry, please don’t be sad, I’m fine!” 

 

The Herald was a curious man. Didn’t seem to understand that she wasn’t sad, but she certainly felt bad for bringing it up so suddenly, especially when it was already understood he may not remember her at all. At least that much proved to be wrong. He knew who she was and her name at least, which was more than any of them suspected he might. She wished he had at least a little more information about himself, it seemed like it must be lonely not knowing who you were or how you fit into the picture. It was a thought, perhaps she was still around, might at least like to know he was still alive and mostly well. 

 

“Was there something that needed to be done?” He asked. “I really don’t know what to do…”

 

“Well, you’ve brought back a lot of people, why not get to know them?” Leliana suggested. “Im sure they’d be interested in talking? Otherwise, if you’re really at a loss, you could certainly go to Redcliffe and meet with Grand Enchanter Fiona?” 

 

“You want the mages?” Cherish wondered. 

 

“Well, nothing is set just yet, of course, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least meet up with her and see what it is she wants out of this. Perhaps she’s willing to be accommodating on the matter since the situation is so dire.” She replied. “My spied are still looking into matters with Templars. For now that’s about the only official item I could suggest.” 

 

He glanced over to Cullen, who didn’t seem to like the idea, but said nothing about it. That in mind, it was something to do. Making conversation was a little more challenging than he remembered, having only so many memories made the small talk a strange experience. Everyone seemed curious about him and he had no answers to offer. Not really anyway. He stared down at his boots in thought, trying to decide what he should do with such limited options.

 

“May I be excused?” He asked, not looking up. 

 

“Of course. Again, I’m sorry this wasn’t much help.” Josephine said sympathetically. 

 

He shuffled out, heading out to the yard. Cullen dismissed his soldiers, and Leliana, her spies, watching them leave as well. After everyone was out of view, he closed the door, looking to the other two. 

 

“Have you even told him about the journal? Seems like the easy thing to do would be to give it to him. Might jog his memory easier?” Cullen suggested. 

 

“We’ve considered it, yes. However, there’s a possibility it may have an opposite effect. Additionally, we’re looking through it for possible leads. When we’ve exhausted everything we have to try, we fully intend to return it to him. For the time being, there’s a lot of unanswered questions that need to be answered beforehand. The spies I’ve dispatched should be returning soon enough, hopefully with something useful.” Leliana explained to him. 

 

“Do what you will, but I don’t think he’d appreciate it being kept from him. I know I wouldn’t.” He sighed. “It doesn’t feel right.” He disagreed. “He’s by himself, and beyond that he’s been going non-stop. It’s only a matter of time before he can’t keep up with that pace.” 

 

Leliana bit back a smirk. He said that of him without quite looking at himself for the very same thing. He had a point however, so rather than poke at him by pointing it out, she nodded. “Well, doubtless he intends to go to Redcliffe, but when he returns, perhaps he may take it under advisement if you were to suggest he rest.” 

 

“Why me?” He asked suspiciously. 

 

“Just an observation. Seems like he responds better to you. Doesn’t seem to always believe he’s done something he shouldn’t.” She said with a shrug. 

 

“I’m not sure how you expect me to keep him here, but I’ll at least make the suggestion I suppose.” He sighed. 


	15. Chapter 15

True to what they’d anticipated of him, he gathered up Varric, Solas and The Iron Bull, and headed for Redcliffe. Almost immediately, in fact. Suppose it made some kind of sense, he didn’t seem thrilled about there being nothing to do. Perhaps when he asked to be excused, it hadn’t been his intent to have permission to leave the room, but the village. 

 

Cherish made excellent time, though they’d first had to stop outside the gates, a rift hanging low in the air in front of it, demons spewing from it, poised to attack. A nearby Inquisition member warned them she had no intent to open the gates until it was safe to do so. That was all it took for him. By the time everyone else readied for battle, he’d dashed over to a demon, blades whirling in that same fluid sort of dancing style he had. They’d caught up to him in a few moments, before more spilled from the rift, something definitely noticeably off about this particular one. Something they hadn’t witnessed in previous rifts. 

 

Solas approached curiously after he managed to close it, staring at the spot warily. 

 

“Did you happen to notice anything unusual about this one?” He inquired curiously. 

 

Cherish nodded slowly, not elaborating immediately. He squatted down slowly, his fingers sweeping in the dust. He blinked slowly, looking back then. 

 

“You saw her too, right? She was speaking?” He asked, not quite answering the question. 

 

Assuming he meant the woman currently moving to open the gates now that it was safe, they nodded. Cherish nodded once, returning his focus to the dirt, then to the path leading into the village, that same curious, yet serious expression returning to his face. He took a few steps closer, his tail going rigid up his back, shaking his head. 

 

“No...I don’t want to go in, it feels bad…” he muttered, biting his lip. 

 

Solas slung an arm around his shoulders, guiding him in, a patient look on his face. Cherish slipped his hold, eyeing him like he didn’t quite recognize him. That was an odd reaction that didn’t really seem to fit. 

 

“It’s safe now, you’ve closed the rift, there’s no more demons. This is just a normal village, no need to worry.” He explained. 

 

He glanced down, arms raised in goosebumps, a sudden, persistent cold feeling rushing down his spine before settling at the base of his neck. It didn’t  _ feel  _ safe, but he supposed if he was sure…he took a deep breath, exhaling it all out in an uncharacteristically heavy sigh. Pressing on, they were stopped by someone who claimed no one was waiting for them, even Grand Enchanter Fiona hadn’t seemed to expect the Inquisition’s presence. 

 

“Now I know it could just be me, but that’s  _ weird _ . You were there, Chuckles. She stopped us at the gates to invite us.” Varric said.

 

“Indeed...I recall her extending an invitation as well. There’s no cause for her not to remember it, it’s not been very long.” Solas agreed. 

 

They pointed out the tavern when it came into view, and Cherish hesitated again, but went in after a few moments. 

 

Sure enough, she was there, unsure as to why they stopped by, assuring them she offered no invitation. Insisted it had been before the Conclave that she had even  _ been  _ in Val Royeaux, and that regardless of what she may or may not have said, she no longer had the authority to speak on behalf of the mages anymore, that they’d bargained with a magister from Tevinter. 

 

Cherish perked up visibly at that, to be expected, he was likely very unaware that here, that was definitely bad news, or at least something that put southerners on guard. Shit, he might even  _ know _ the guy. Suddenly it seemed like anything was possible. Fiona pulled out a chair for him and he sat, tail thumping against the wood steadily. 

 

Varric, Solas and Bull stood off to the side, waiting and watching in silence as the Magister filed in. He took a seat across from him, about to speak when he looked up finally. He seemed surprised, and the initial assumption was simply that he was taken aback by his appearance, but his words indicated something else entirely.

 

“Aren’t you Decius’ servant?” He asked. 

 

He nodded excitedly at that, but then, he seemed to remember that he’d overheard he died recently, and he sighed. 

 

“Mages.” He said, opting not to discuss it with him. “What do you want?” 

 

Alexius laughed to himself at that, leaning back. “Straight to business then? Well. There are a great many mages that I must consider here, and I’m not sure how long you’ll need them for. I’ll have to-“ 

 

He stopped, glancing up to a sickly looking man who approached, instantly standing to fuss over him. 

 

“Felix, are you alright?” He asked. 

 

Cherish looked between the two, standing slowly like he wasn’t sure what, if anything, he was meant to do in such a situation. Felix took a few more steps and collapsed into his chest, Cherish reaching out to steady him. Looking to the group as if to ask what to do about him, though he got no answers. Instead, Alexius excused himself to go tend to his son’s illness, leaving him standing there looking at his hands. He unfolded a piece of parchment, staring at it for a few minutes before Varric held out his hand in offering. 

 

“Here kid, I’ll read it if you want.” He offered. 

 

He frowned, holding it out to him. “Thank you…”

 

He looked it over in silence before handing it back. 

 

“It’s an invitation to meet someone at the chantry. Says you’re in danger.” He said. “Sounds like a trap to me, but it’s up to you if you choose to go.” 

 

He hummed in thought, tapping his fingers against his arms, folded across his chest. He still looked very much wary of being here at all for some reason, but he nodded. “We’re already here, might as well go…” 

 

Solas seemed more surprised he was willing to go to a chantry that wasn’t familiar to him at all, but perhaps that was half his apprehension right there. He swallowed hard, distracting himself instead with talking to a Tranquil alchemist by the door for a time before he worked up the nerve to leave and head further down the path towards the chantry. His hand flattened against the door, closing his eyes, mumbling to himself nervously before he pushed it open and walked in. 

 

Just inside, another mage was fighting demons, dropping out of a rift in the center of the chantry, that same unusual feeling present with this one. 

 

“Good, you’re here, help me with this.” He said, not looking back. 

 

Cherish reaches for his daggers, leaping into the fray in a flurry of blades, one reaching to claw at him, slicing through his leathers along his back. He growled, a burst of fire seeming to pulse out of him, catching it and others nearby on fire. 

 

“That’s a new trick…” Varric muttered more to himself. 

 

It almost seemed to put him in a sort of frenzy, swinging wildly at the one who’d hurt him, having to be alerted when the last perished so he could close it. His chest heaved with each breath, calming slowly over a couple of minutes, looking around like he himself was surprised as well. 

 

“Lord Pavus.” He said in greeting. 

 

The man paused, looking him over curiously before he clicked his tongue once. 

 

“Ah, Magister Vestelus’ servant. I hadn’t quite expected to see you here.” He said. Looking at his hand, he turned completely, studying him for a time. “So it’s  _ you _ . You’re the Herald I’ve heard so much about. I’d be interested to hear  _ that _ story, but first, we have more pressing matters to discuss. Like the  _ cult _ that wants you dead.” 

 

“I’m sorry...what did you say?” Varric asked in disbelief. “Why on earth would a cult care about him? No offense, you’re fine, but really, why you of all people?”

 

Cherish gave a shrug, waiting for an answer that just didn’t come. He seemed to be waiting for something to happen, or perhaps some _ one _ , either way, it seemed like nothing was going to be discussed until whatever it was happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, every now and then something happens in my works that I didn’t plan. For Dorian and Alexius to be at least somewhat familiar with Cherish was completely unplanned, it just sort of happened.
> 
> Also, for those curious about the Chantry fight, he has Hellish Rebuke.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering why Cherish is so focused on Cullen rather than Josephine or Leliana is because he has more pain that he can feel, so he wants to make him feel better.

“You should tell them, they need to know this.” Solas suggested when they returned. 

 

“What if they get mad at me?” He asked quietly. 

 

“They  _ won’t.” _ He said. “They want to keep you safe, but they can’t do that if you don’t tell them.” 

 

“If you say so…” Cherish mumbled, unconvinced. 

 

He hung his head, his hands pressed nervously together as he shuffled off towards the chantry. Josephine smiles when she saw him, Leliana looking up from reading through scouting reports. Cullen tore his focus from the map, the first to notice something seemed off about him. 

 

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

 

Shaking his head, he sighed. “Not really, I think you might be upset with me.” 

 

“Did something happen in Redcliffe?” Leliana questioned. 

 

He nodded at that, his hand curling around his arm. “I told you I’m from Tevinter. Magister Alexius has taken the mages. He may be willing to lend them to us, but I don’t know.” 

 

He had said for the moment he wouldn’t mention Lord Pavus, not until he was needed, and maybe it would be better not to just yet. 

 

“And there’s a cult that wants me. I think I’ve done something to upset them. I don’t know what…” he said. 

 

Leliana exchanged uncomfortable glances with Josephine, both glancing to Cullen to see his reaction. 

 

“This is really bad.” He sighed. 

 

“I know your feelings on mages, but perhaps this is worth investigating? Tevinter in possession of that many mages is bad enough, but if the Herald could be in danger because of it…” Leliana said quietly. 

 

Cherish hesitantly stepped over to him, head cocked to the side. “You don’t like mages? I...I’m sorry for my magic. I don’t have to use it…” 

 

Leliana grinned behind her palm at that. It was so clear to her that he favored him for some reason, seemed eager to make him feel better. Cullen might not have been aware of the way his expression softened just a touch when he regarded him. It was almost sweet, and honestly, he needed friends.

 

“No, you’re alright. You’ve done nothing to warrant my concern.” He sighed. He still really wanted to enlist the aid of the Templars, but he couldn’t deny this did  _ sound _ very bad at least. “I can’t deny the Herald’s safety  _ should _ be a priority. I suppose there’s no other way. Are we certain we can’t try for both?” 

 

“Well, there’s nothing saying we can’t  _ try _ . Though we now know where they are, we’ve had difficulty in getting contact with them. They’ll accept no missives, and refuse to talk to the scouts. I’ve got no idea on how to begin opening a discussion on the matter.” Leliana stated. 

 

“Perhaps by the time we figure out this mage issue, we may have more information…” Josephine suggested. 

 

“I suppose that’s all we can do.” He sighed. 

 

“You’re really not mad at me?” Cherish asked. 

 

“Why would we be mad? You can’t control what Tevinter does, and you certainly did nothing I can think of to attract the attention of a cult.” Cullen said. 

 

“You didn’t ask for that mark, there was nothing you could do.” Leliana agreed. 

 

“Did you learn anything else?” Josephine asked. 

 

“I secured the aid of an alchemist, and a smuggler…” he shrugged. 

 

He looked worn out, and given his prior injuries, even if he didn’t have to sleep, it was unreasonable to allow him to keep going, and regardless of who he wanted to pursue first, they still had to wait. There was no reason he couldn’t rest up while waiting on word. 

 

“Why don’t you get something to eat and relax?” Josephine suggested gently. 

 

“I don’t know...I don’t really want to stop.” He admitted. 

 

“Please?” Leliana added. 

 

He frowned a little, more like it was a punishment than anything, but he finally nodded. 

 

“Where do I find the food?” He asked. 

 

Right. He’d never formally been shown around, and while he knew where the basics were, there was still plenty he hadn’t seen yet.

 

“It’s on my way. I’ll show him.” Cullen offered. 

 

“Alright. We’ll keep you updated.” Leliana told them. 

 

“Do try not to be too troubled by the waiting…” Josephine said sympathetically. 

 

He only nodded, turning to follow Cullen’s lead to the mess hall. It wasn’t terribly far from the chantry, partway to his room and indeed on the way to the training yard. Just as he was about to leave, he turned again. 

 

“Are you  _ sure  _ you’re alright?” He asked. 

 

“I don’t know…” he admitted. “Everything is different here, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I wish I could remember something. I feel like I’m letting everyone down…” 

 

Really, he should get back to running drills, but he supposed there was value in making sure he was well. Much as he wasn’t quite sure how he might be able to help, it seemed the least he could do to return the favor of rescuing his men. 

 

Following him through the line, he sighed to himself, sitting across from him at the table. Honestly, he wasn’t all that hungry, but it seemed more appropriate than just sitting down to talk and taking space someone else could have used. 

 

“You aren’t. It’s not your fault you’ve lost your memory. I don’t think you can just force the issue.” He said. 

 

Picking at the mystery meal, he grimaced. Really, he wished they could at least get a better cook, or better supplies, whatever the cause of the lackluster food was. Cherish had a plate of bread, fruits and vegetables, and he seemed quite pleased with it. 

 

“Why are you nice to me?” He asked quietly. “You’re not scared of me?” 

 

He stared at him for a moment, though honestly the question gave him pause. He had been sure just a bit ago he knew what the reason was, but being put on the spot like that made his mind blank on him. 

 

“No. I’m not scared of you. You haven’t done any wrong to me personally, I’ve got no reason to be unkind to you.” He said, though he truly wasn’t sure if that was the reason or not, now. Part of it, certainly. All of it? He couldn’t say. “I do admit I am a little curious to know more about you.” 

 

Not a lie, what little he’d been told had been enough to want to know who exactly he was before all of this. As it stood, he’d almost be comfortable considering him very nearly a friend, but what happened if he regained his lost memories and he was an entirely different person? Couldhe say the same even then? 

 

“I’d tell you, if I knew. I only recall bits and pieces, and it’s not much to make sense with. I know you’re very nice, I like you. You’re not scary, and you haven’t hurt me.” He said with a nod. 

 

“Why would I hurt you?” He asked. 

 

“I shouldn’t exist, she said. I’m an abomination…” he said sadly. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did…” 

 

“No. You’re not.” He said firmly. “I’ve seen true abominations before, I know all too well what they can do. You’re nothing like that. Beyond that, I have no intention to hurt you.” 

 

“I don’t think the shield maiden likes me. She looks at me and sees a child. I can tell. She doesn’t like me.” He said. 

 

“Cassandra can be a little bit difficult. I’m sure she likes you fine, she’s very serious about her job, that’s all.” He said. 

 

Cherish paused to bite into the apple on his tray, covering his mouth when it started to drip down his chin. 

 

Yes, it was true he was a strange one. Well mannered, but not as modest as one might expect, and yet...there was something about him he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Truth be told, he didn’t like mysteries much, but trying to figure him out had almost become a mission in his mind. Who knows, perhaps if Leliana was right and for whatever reason, he liked to be around him, perhaps something might eventually trigger something for him. He’d offer him to fall in for a while, but he was no soldier, and there was no guarantee he wouldn’t get hurt. 

 

The chantry was where he was supposed to try and get him, but honestly, if it frightened him, that might not be wise. There was probably a very good reason for it. The tavern was no place he wanted to be seen, but perhaps it might not hurt to see him on occasion. Try to stumble through a conversation for a bit? If it helped, there was no reason not to. The idea of getting out and away from his job sounded good in theory, but he was certain even a small break would only make him anxious.

 

“I’m up pretty late. If you truly can’t sleep and you’d like to get out, you might join me for patrol?” He suggested. 

 

Yes, there were guards for that, but he was used to that much, a few laps around the village at night to ensure all was well for himself was usually enough to wind him down for the night. 

 

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Cherish asked softly. 

 

“I wouldn’t make the offer if I minded. Besides, I fought with you on the mountain. If something were to happen, I know you at least, can handle yourself.” He said. 

 

“I’ll try first. If I can’t, I’d like that.” He agreed, nodding in emphasis.


	17. Chapter 17

Laying in bed, Cherish fidgeted with the edge of the pillow, rolling one way, then the other, bunching up and stretching out. Sure he  _ could _ sleep, but that didn’t mean it was any easier some times. Sighing, he opted to get out of bed, anxiously kneading his arm. This wasn’t home, and while he’d certainly made the offer, he hardly wanted to be a bother. 

 

Thinking it over, he put his vest back on, slipping the buttons back in place, mentally debating the merits of wearing his cloak too. It as late, probably colder. Not a bad idea. Sighing, he pulled it on, flipping the hood up, bending to retrieve his bits from the floor. He wandered outside, hands clutching his arms as if that might somehow chase away the lingering uncertainty he felt about the situation. 

 

Debating turning around, he noticed Cullen standing not far down the path. The two cups steaming in his hands left him wondering if he’d be interrupting something, it seemed to indicate he was waiting for someone. About to turn around and figure out something else to keep busy with, he took note of him, nodding to one of the cups. 

 

“I figured you’d be out soon enough. I’ve got tea..” he said, looking at it closely. “Still warm, too.” 

 

Smiling, Cherish strode over to relieve him of it. He sniffed it curiously before taking a sip. “Thank you. But...how did you know I would be here?” 

 

Cullen shrugged, taking a drink. “I didn’t. I just figured if you did, you might like something to keep you warm. I hear you’re not fond of the cold.”

 

He grinned, nodding at that. “I’m really not…Tevinter is nice, but I think my body still remembers the heat of Seheron.”

 

“I’ve never lived anywhere especially warm. I don’t know how I’d do in the heat.” He admits with a laugh. 

 

Cherish reached for his mantle, giving it a playful tug. “With this I think you might cook.” 

 

“I’m sure you’re right about that.” He agreed. “Anyway. Up for a bit of a walk?” 

 

He nodded to that, turning to follow him. He kept his pace slow and he suspected it was simply out of kindness because he hadn’t quite been everywhere yet, that and to keep a wary eye out for trouble. The guards greeted him when they passed the gates and he nodded in return, barely paying him any strange notice besides greeting him as well. A far cry from the odd and fearful looks he’d gotten when he first arrived as a prisoner. Before he had a chance to ask about it, Cullen offered up an answer as if he expected he might think to question it. 

 

“They’re aware of the things you’ve done since you arrived. They appreciate you greatly.” He hesitated a moment before adding “I do too. You’ve earned my respect.” 

 

That seemed only to confuse him more, a curious sort of expression cast over his bright eyes. 

 

“But...I’ve only done what I thought was right...I don’t know that I’m worthy of that…” he murmured. 

 

Cullen shook his head. “Maybe you think too little of yourself. What seems like it’s just the right thing to do has meant a lot to the people here. I’ve got men and women who lived to write home, see their friends and families again. People have hope that you can do the impossible and save Thedas. You don’t know how much that means.” 

 

He bit his lip, staring into his tea in thought, unsure what to make of such a sentiment. He scarcely got to know his mother, his father a complete mystery to him and now his master gone too...he couldn’t recall any friends before this and honestly, as much as he’d like to, he wasn’t quite sure if he could call anyone here a friend, he hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask.

 

Gesturing down a path to the edge of the village, he smiled slightly. “We’ll go down this way and double back. I usually go back down the other path before I head back. It’s not a long walk, not like what you must be getting used to by now, but if nothing else, the fresh air might do you some good.” 

 

He took a sip of his tea, following his lead with a slow nod. “I suppose you’re right.” Looking around quietly, he added. “This place...it's pretty. I like it.” 

 

Hearing that, he stopped for a few minutes, looking around for himself as though he hadn’t seen it every day for weeks. The snowy paths, the trees, the frozen lake. He supposed it was quite a sight. Of course he was at the very least interesting to look at too. He’d never seen anyone who looked a match for the starry sky looming over Haven. The multitude of mixing hues on his skin almost a mirrored reflection if he considered it. 

 

“I guess I’d never really taken the time to look. You’re right, it’s...nice.” He agreed. 

 

Conversation lapsed for a time in favor of finishing their tea and turning around to head the other way, already nearly halfway down that path before it picked up again. 

 

“Are you comfortable here?” He asked. “I know it’s not exactly home for you, but...is it passable?” 

 

Cherish beamed with excitement, nodding slowly. “I like it here. I’ve never known so many kind people. Not that it’s bad in Tevinter, but people are busy, they mostly don’t notice...I don’t know...it’s...It’s not bad.” 

 

He turned again and Cherish followed eagerly, still looking all over, trying to make sure not to miss a thing. 

 

“I’m pleased to hear it. I’m certain it must be a stark difference from what you’re used to, but I’m glad you like it. It’s a bit strange being back, I must admit. There’s not as much to see anymore. The Blight changed these lands, and while much of it escaped unscathed, a good portion still has yet to be rebuilt…” he said, a quiet sigh punctuating the end. 

 

“You hurt again…” he noticed. “Can I help somehow?” 

 

Cullen looked at him curiously. How he always managed to uncover the things he tried to hide was unusual to him, but well intentioned at least. “No, I’ll be fine. Old wounds.” 

 

He nodded slowly. “I understand. It’s alright to be sad sometimes.” 

 

Cullen careful took his empty cup, setting them off to the side on a table nearby, slowing to a stop when they reached his door again. 

 

“That’s my rounds for the night. I hope it helped.” He said. “Might be easier to sleep now, too. Good night.” 

 

He nodded, a bright smile on his face. “Thank you for letting me go with you. Good night!” 

 

It wasn’t a long time spent together, but he certainly didn’t mind the company as much as he guessed he might. Perhaps it was simply easier with him because they worked so closely together, but he hadn’t met many people he would be comfortable talking to like this, or imposing on his quiet patrols. Cherish though? He was different somehow...

 


	18. Chapter 18

Cherish wandered into the war room, twisting a curl between his fingers curiously. It had certainly seemed like the news would take more than a few days to arrive, but a messenger had informed him his presence was needed. He looked at least like he wasn’t dragging now, but whether he truly rested or had simply just forced himself to stay put for a few days was debatable. 

 

He took a seat, looking over the map for a minute or two. There was much more marked on it now than before, though he couldn’t imagine whether that was a good thing or not. No one really explained it, but then again, he hadn’t asked either. 

 

Looking between the three, he slumped lower in his seat, his tail steadily thumping the leg of the chair. the princess sighed, not a reaction he was used to from her, and indeed the pretty bird looked troubled too. 

 

“We’ve received a missive this morning, an invitation specifically addressed for you. Magister Alexius has asked for your presence. Under the pretenses of continuing your discussion about the mages. Given the very specific wording, it seems an obvious trap.” Leliana explained.

 

“Not simply that, but it would appear we’ve also discovered the way to get the Templars to meet. Despite the instruction not to seek wealth or status, the only thing that earned us a reply was the suggestion we could muster the nobility to demand an audience. The situation with the mages is troubling, and it still warrants our attention, I believe. However, the reports from my spies seems to indicate there may be trouble among the Order as well. As ever, it is your decision.” She finished.

 

“There  _ are _ a sizable number of mages, it could be dangerous if brought to bear against you. We must tread carefully.” Josephine added. 

 

Cullen kneaded his brow for a time before folding his arms. “I’m not sure I like the sound of either option. Clearly they no longer care for the things they once stood for, we have no idea what to expect, and to do flagrantly suggest wealth and status could sway them says they’ve changed a lot in such a short time, but with that in mind, if for some reason it turned hostile, it would be far too dangerous for the Herald. Then again, if we send him into a trap and Alexius is even one step ahead, his ‘obvious trap’ might stand a fair chance at succeeding. Who knows what this cult might conceivably do to him. Neither option is a good one at this point…”

 

Josephine stares at the table in thought,lightly tapping her quill against her writing board for a moment before she spoke. 

 

“If you think about it, he does seem to know something of the Herald. If I were to offer a suggestion, perhaps we could apprehend him and bring him in to question. Trap or no, there  _ is _ something to be gained from this aside from the aid of the mages. We know little and less about this cult, but it can also be assumed they must know more of him than it may seem. Perhaps if the magister is not amenable, we might find and question one of these cultists?” Josephine suggested. 

 

Leliana lent it some thought, looking to him to check his reaction to such a suggestion. Cherish tucked his knees to his chest, his arms folded around them, head resting atop them. He didn’t so much seem against the idea as appropriately apprehensive. He was unnerved by it, as perhaps he should be. His eyes left the map, glancing briefly to the Commander, eyes narrowed curiously like he was searching for something he couldn’t find. 

 

His gaze wandered to herself, and then to Josephine, sighing heavily like he simply would much rather someone point him in a direction and send him off rather than to make him choose the path he walked. Even for as thoughtful as he appeared to be, it seemed he was plenty aware that not everyone would be pleased regardless of which option he chose. That sort of hard decision was never meant to be easy, let alone without obstacles. 

 

“I suppose I have to decide now, don’t I?” He asked quietly. 

 

“Perhaps not right this moment, but yes, it will have to be soon. Unfortunately, it also seems like the Templars will not speak to us after all, should we decide to approach the mages for assistance. That much was made clear when they finally made contact with my scout.” Leliana sighed. “Both will be expecting an answer soon. I fear this may bring trouble regardless which path we pursue.” 

 

“I...I need some time to think about this. I’m so sorry, I can’t make this decision just yet. “ he mumbled apologetically.

 

“If it may make your choice a bit easier, perhaps you should talk to others and gather their input on the situation. I won’t pretend it will make the choice for you, but ultimately we must act as one, rather than a group divided. Whatever you decide, the Inquisition must stand behind you on it.” Josephine said. 

 

Cherish nodded slowly, unfolding his legs before moving to stand. He wandered towards the door like even then he was lending it more thought than paying attention to his surroundings. At least they could be sure it wasn’t going to be a decision made thoughtlessly.

 

Cullen watched him leave, grimacing as the thought once more crossed his mind that maybe going after the mages  _ was _ the best option. Not just because it may get him some answers, well, all of them really, he was just as curious about him as he was, to say nothing of Leliana and Josephine. All the digging they’ve been doing to that end. Also just as much because a Templar could potentially hurt him. Not that they’d outright attack him, but possibly born of a misunderstanding. He did look remarkably like a demon, and some may not bother to question it enough to talk first. 

 

They weren’t mistaken that it  _ should  _ be the Herald’s choice, but he hoped whatever he decided on would be because it was well thought out, not simply because he let someone else decide what to do. Perhaps he’d check in with him again tonight and try to get a feel for what he was thinking on the matter...


	19. Chapter 19

Two days later and Cherish had made no mention of whether or not he’d come any closer to a decision or 

not. He had definitely taken the advice to speak with his friends on the matter, many had said as much, though none had told him a direct answer, more gently advised him in which ways either could potentially help - or hurt.

 

“You must have heard  _ something?”  _ Josephine asked. 

 

“He wasn’t in his room when I stopped by to talk. I’m about as in the know as you right now, I don’t like it.” She complained. 

 

“I doubt it’s anything to worry so much about. Perhaps it was more stressful than he anticipated and he simply needs time to reassert his focus.” Josephine suggested calmly. 

 

“Varric tells that he spoke with him at length yesterday, and he asked what he would do. Apparently he says ‘what Hawke would do. Wing it and hope for the best’.” Leliana sighed. ‘Maybe I’m just concerned he’ll lend that bit of advice too much attention.”

 

Josephine set her quill down and put on a serious face. “The Leliana  _ I  _ know would choose to throw someone he likes more in his path to override his influence.” She said, with a quiet laugh. “Though… the  _ Cassandra  _ I know would also agree on the basis that his opinion is a stupid one or some such excuse. I’d believe she really didn’t like him at all were it not for all those books.” 

 

Leliana seemed to be lending her words some serious thought. Cherish has varying levels of ‘friendship ‘ one might say. He liked most people just fine, but some more than others. He lent great value to the words and actions of Varric and Solas, and some he seemed just fine going against them, perhaps the answer was to try and encourage him to do  what he thinks is best rather than others, but that’s back to square one all over again.

 

* * *

 

Cherish sat by the lake, watching the little sunspots flicker on the ice. Despite the proximity to the village, the sound even this close was quieter, it was easier to focus out here more than in his room. It was a surprisingly difficult thing they were asking of someone who was very recently considered a prisoner. He got the impression it might just be a way to make sure if things went badly, people would still have someone to blame. 

 

_ “Poor thing…”  _ she said. 

 

Cherish raised his head, looking around slowly. Usually that voice accompanied an appearance, but he could see no one. Maybe he imagined it, that was always possible, wasn’t it? He glanced over his shoulder, taking note of Cullen’s approach. He turned around again, his nails digging into the fabric of his trousers. It wasn’t at all that he wasn’t pleased to see him, but more that he worried about what would happen if he thought something unusual was going on.

 

“Hey.” He said quietly, hoping it didn’t sound nervous. “Did I miss something important?” 

 

Cullen slowed to a stop, dropping a black mantle over his shoulders with a slow sigh. “Apparently, you might catch sick out here.” He said. “That’s all you missed. You  _ have _ been out here awhile right? Is it helping?” 

 

“You knew I was here?” Cherish asked quietly. “I gather it must have been easy?” 

 

He shrugged and nodded. “We do have guards. They report what’s going on. Anyone who needs to know knew you were out here. It’s an easy guess that it has to be a heavy weight. You’re by no means required to come back in immediately, but you should at least be cautious. It’ll get colder soon.” 

 

He tugged the edges closer, standing slowly. “I asked everyone I could think of. It’s really hard. I don’t know that I should be the one who does this…I don’t want to make things worse.” 

 

“Even were I to try and recommend someone else do it instead, it doesn’t quite stop it from being  _ you _ people want to see.and let’s face it, you’re currently one of the only people here that has solid insight into the Imperium, if it was needed, you’d be the one to ask. This Alexius you met with seems to know more of you than we do of him, especially. Only you might have anything useful to add where he’s concerned.” Cullen explained. 

 

“I...I’m sorry, truly, but I barely remember his name, I know he’s a magister, he has a son, and he wants me dead, I think.” He sighed “I think maybe my master’s father had him over once? It’s too hazy…” 

 

“No… I should apologize. Sometimes I manage to let it slip my mind that you can’t quite remember much.” He admitted. “Such as it is...are you really no closer in deciding?”

 

It was a lot to consider, some people would really be happy to have the Templars as allies and there was still the hope that both were not completely out of the question, but even Leliana had made passing mention the mages were a good choice. It wasn’t hard to imagine someone there must know something he had forgotten, even something tiny could help...and Lord Pavus was still waiting on word, he could help, had offered his help. 

 

He turned, staring at him silently while he thought. His pain radiated. The Templars were brothers and sisters in arms to him, and he hadn’t lied when he said he was a good one, a sort of balance to the bad one he knew before. Who could say what to expect if he opted to go in that direction. It might be fine, it might be terrible. It was a total mystery, and that was somehow exciting in a sense. Something he could figure out, given enough time, unlike how long it had already been just trying to figure out who he was, and why he had forgotten in the first place. 

 

“I...would you hate me if I said I think I should try the mages?” He asked curiously.

 

It was sort of confusing. They were becoming good friends, certainly, but why would he concern himself so much with what he would think or if he would hate him? Honestly he though perhaps he’d be a little more upset and uneasy when he tried to imagine this in his head, but he couldn’t quite place why instead, he felt  _ relief _ . Maybe it was just the idea that he could come to worse harm this time. That would only be natural, right? He was special, he should be the priority, it wasn’t particularly an unusual concern. 

 

“No. I wouldn’t hate you for doing what was asked of you. Everyone has asked it of you, the sensible response would be to not judge whatever it is too harshly.” He said finally. 

 

“I’m not completely sure, I’ll give a certain decision in the morning. I want to give it a little more thought. “ Cherish said. 

 

“That might be wise. I know you don’t require it, but you should still try to sleep. “ he lectured. 

 

“I’ll at least stay put. You weren’t wrong, it’s very cold now.” Cherish snorted. 

  
  



	20. Chapter 20

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Cherish held his head in his hands. He had been relatively certain he’d reached his decision, but the sun was starting to rise and it left him reviewing all the positives and negatives of each choice, trying to at least make sure he appeared to know what he was doing. He was certain Alexius was going to try something should he go, Leliana had all but assured him that, but Lord Pavus seemed to know something of him that he might be able to shed light on. Beyond that he said he wanted to help. He might get answers and rescue the mages from being servants in Tevinter. 

 

Certainly his master was very kind, but even he knew not all were so good to their people. He wasn’t too keen to be this far from home, and it made sense that they’d be unhappy to be away from theirs. At the same time, the Templars were strong, and trained to negate magic as he understood it. It might make Cullen feel better, and Cassandra might approve too, something that might make her a little friendlier towards him. Groaning quietly, he thumped his tail against the bed in a way that said he was completely agitated. 

 

Needing a distraction, he got out of bed, heading for the door. He had no set destination, leaning against the wall. The wind bit at his cheeks, and he crossed his arms for a little extra warmth. It felt like people would be mad at him regardless of what happened. That in mind, he supposed he had about as much of an answer as he could come up with. It was too early for most to be up, save for Cullen and Solas, neither of which he wanted to pester with this dilemma yet again. 

 

Varric might be up, but he wasn’t sure where he stayed. About the time he thought to just go wait it out in his room, he noticed Josephine heading in for the morning. Maybe it meant Leliana was up too? It wasn’t unheard of for them to get up early. Cherish didn’t want to be a bother, but maybe it was best to tell him what he had come up with as soon as he could before he had a chance to reconsider it again. 

 

He clutched his head again, shifting in place anxiously for a few minutes before he decided to go for it after all. He slipped through the door quietly, freezing up immediately when he noticed a group of mothers gathered in the hall, one looking right at him. It made his insides feel like they were twisting, biting his lip. Nervously scooting to the side of the hall, the others stared at him oddly now, and it was uncomfortable. The door opened again, and Leliana came in, followed by Cullen, who seemed to take note of the situation. Leliana took the time to introduce him, on the theory that maybe having names to go by might make him more comfortable. It didn’t work, only serving to give his discomfort a name to go by. 

 

Cullen cleared his throat, bobbing his head apologetically, he carefully guided him past them and into the war room. Cherish collapsed into his seat with a quiet sigh. Josephine took note of the trembling in his hands and shoulders, clicking her tongue softly. She called to her assistant to get some tea, rounding the table to rub slow circles between his shoulders. 

 

“I apologize. I forgot to let you know they gather in the mornings before the rest of the camp gets up…” she said soothingly. 

 

“No… I know this is a chantry, I should have expected it. Mother Giselle is nice, I like her, but the others...they scare me.” He mumbled nervously. 

 

Her assistant returned, setting the pot down and pouring several cups before she excused herself to return to other business. Cherish reaches for his cup, taking a drink. Josephine fretted immediately. 

 

“Oh! That’s hot, don’t…!” She warned nervously, expecting him to have just burned his mouth completely. 

 

He blinked slowly, taking another sip. “It’s good. I like it.” 

 

Seeing he was apparently just fine, she sighed worriedly. Opting not to mention it further if he was just fine. His head shot up after a moment, recalling the purpose of his arrival. His nerves had gotten the better of him, momentarily forgetting about it. 

 

“I want to look into the mages first. If I can, I want to get the Templars to talk to us too.” He blurted. 

 

His eyes shot open and he clapped a hand over his mouth. He had wanted to bring it up more carefully than that, instead of giving them the impression it was an impulsive choice. Josephine hurried to her seat, grabbing her quill. Scrawling something on the parchment hastily, Cullen leaned over the map, looking at options. Leliana nodded once. 

 

“Very good. Now we can decide a countermeasure. We’re certain he means to try something, but bringing too many men will be obvious and may cause him to quit the meeting. We’ll handle the finer details, you just focus on him. It does specify just you, but I’m certain you can bring a few people with, you’ll have the upper hand at first to demand they accompany you. Use that as you see fit.” She explained. “I’ll also send a representative to Therinfal Redoubt one more time. If there’s a chance to sway them to our cause, I would take advantage of it now.” 

 

It was surprising how quickly they had sprung into action. Was it really possible they were simply waiting for him to say what he wanted to do? They’d said before they had to wait, but it seemed like it was much simpler than he’d imagined. Sighing to himself, he stared into his tea a moment, taking another long sip from it. He wasn’t readily sure if he should go now or if it was best to stay and wait, his tea was almost gone, maybe he should leave after? 

 

Josephine took note when she looked up from her writing, filling it back up before she left the room to pass off the parchment to someone who looked like maybe one of the scouts? He wasn’t quite sure. When she returned, however, she left a small plate of tiny cakes by his cup. He beamed happily, his legs swinging slowly back and forth then, tail waving slowly and contentedly back and forth at his side. 

 

“Thank you!” He chirped gratefully. 

 

“It’s hard to think on an empty stomach.” She said with a slight smile. 

 

Cullen watched quietly, shaking his head. Good thing Cassandra hadn’t arrived. He’d already received several reports on her displeasure with the way everyone insisted on treating him like ‘an overgrown child’. He had no insight on how best to help recover his memories, only that he didn’t seem overly childish to him, and he seemed to enjoy the treatment, no sense in making him feel worse about it by lecturing him. Besides, he seemed to have more ‘moments of clarity’ as Solas had worded it to him. While still not completely satisfied with the idea of pursuing the mages, he had at least considered  _ someone  _ might have some answers at the end of it. 

 

“That’s right…” Leliana said after a moment. “During the blight I was privy to a hidden entrance into the castle. We won’t be able to send soldiers perhaps, but a few of my men could certainly slip in unnoticed. That way we can do more to ensure our Herald’s safety.” 

 

“Will the bad people be there, you think?” Cherish asked warily. 

 

“If he means to trap you, it is almost certain.” She said. 

 

“I thought he was nice because he remembers my master...I don’t understand why he doesn’t like me…” Cherish mumbled. 

 

“You can’t win everyone over. Believe me, no matter what you do, someone will be unhappy about it.” Cullen said. “Trust me, I know.” 

 

“I don’t like it when people hurt. It feels bad in my stomach.” He sighed. Taking a long drink, he added. “What should I do?” 

 

“Well, really, we’ll arrange everything, you only need to gather who you want with you and make any preparations you need to see to.” Leliana told him. “Don’t concern yourself too much, we’ll make sure that you’ll be safe.” 

 

He rolled to cup between his fingers thoughtfully. “I’m not scared. I won’t let him hurt me.”

 


	21. Chapter 21

“It’s alright.” Dorian said, approaching him. “I’m here, I’ll protect you.” 

 

Cherish examined their dismal surroundings. “Why? I thought he couldn’t possibly be bad. He knew my...he knew…” 

 

Sighing some, he bent to grab the key, unlocking the door. “You were always so suspicious of those in his company. I have to wonder what happened to you…” 

 

He rushed after him at that, slipping past him to stand in his way. “So you  _ do _ know me. I...can’t recall what happened...how much do you know? Could you tell me?” 

 

Dorian carefully slid past him, taking the lead, stopping when more guards rushed toward them. Cherish didn’t remember much, but this man was strong, focused, and very capable of multitasking. 

 

“I do indeed. Not as much as you might be hoping, but I could perhaps enlighten you a little. If you don’t mind, let’s save that for when we figure out how to escape.” He said. 

 

Nodding, he wet his lips thoughtfully. Reaching for his daggers, managing to assist with the last guard before they continued on. Cherish grew distracted, following the sounds he heard down towards a set of cells, startled by what had become of his companions. They looked sick, wrong, and apparently they were dying. 

 

“This can’t be right…” he mumbled. “They were fine a bit ago…” 

 

“This  _ is _ the future. Or a version of it anyway.” Dorian told him. “I’m still confident we may be able to undo all of this, but until we find Alexius, we have little choice but to press on.” 

 

“Alexius will be in his throne room. He rarely comes out these days.” Varric sighed. 

 

“Now  _ that’s  _ helpful.” Dorian said. 

 

“I’ve never been here before...I don’t know where that is…” Cherish said quietly. 

 

‘ _ Child, you always blind yourself. You needn’t have seen this place for what it was, if you look harder at what it is…’  _ a voice whispered in his ear...or...maybe in his mind, he couldn’t be sure. 

 

He stopped, looking around himself slowly. No one was there, he was certain of it. A woman’s voice, that much he could be sure of. How was he supposed to do that if he didn’t understand what it meant? 

 

“Coming?” Varric asked curiously. 

 

“Y-yeah. Sorry.” He apologized. 

 

The conversation grew sparse for a time, more so after the discovery this was only a year in the future? Rather than the decades Cherish had assumed it would take to end up like  _ this _ . With the team back together, the guards posed very little threat, and it wasn’t long before they discovered Leliana, tortured and frankly, looking worse than the Void Itself. 

 

“Are you...gonna be okay?” He asked her worriedly. 

 

Despite her frosty commentary towards Dorian, she managed a small smile, though even that looked like it hurt her greatly. 

 

“I’d almost forgotten just how kind you were. Are, I suppose, given that you’re here.” She said. “I won’t survive this, I’m certain. However if you trust this man can do as he claims and undo the spell, I suspect you’ll see me again. No doubt in better condition.” 

 

‘ _ You’re beginning to see. Keep going. Rend this illusion and use these injustices to fuel your fury…’ _ the voice whispered. 

 

Again, he stopped, this time checking around, and above, in case he missed something before. Dorian watched him curiously for a few moments, before nudging his shoulder. He jumped in surprise, but followed through, opting to run through the rift-plagued courtyard rather than fight, only to be confronted by another in the hall. Their was chaos, until there wasn’t. He raised his hand to close the rift, Dorian taking note of a round shard of red lyrium. 

 

“Wait. Look at these marks in the door…” he said, waving him over. 

 

Cherish looked at it for a moment. It looked as though the key to opening it was more of them.  

 

‘ _ Can you really afford your waste that time? Are you sure the others aren’t in danger back in that room?’  _ The voice questioned. ‘ _ Wouldn’t you like to take the easy way, just this once?’ _

 

“I...what have I done… they could be in danger…” he muttered. 

 

“Hm? You say something?” Varric asked. 

 

Cherish heaved himself at the door a few times, to no avail. Leliana and Dorian made an effort to try and get him to stop and instead look for the shards to get in. 

 

It seemed whatever was speaking to him had no intention of giving him the answer of how else to get through, and it hurt. Equal parts pain and frustration. He hated the idea of letting the others hold his hand through this place, fighting the majority of the battles he should be fighting, and while he could continue to hide behind not knowing the path, it was more that the whole situation had made him completely uneasy. 

 

“I think this  _ should _ be the last one…” Dorian said finally. “We can go back and try the door now.” 

 

Cherish hung his head, tail practically squeezing his waist in steadily mounting anger. 

 

‘ _ You’re better than this. Why don’t you just let it all go. Show them how strong you really are…’  _ the voice whispered soothingly. 

 

As if it were as simple as just relaxing. It felt like watching through someone else’s eyes. Future Leliana slit Felix’s throat. Or what was left of Felix anyway. Alexius attacked, where it had seemed he might surrender. The sight of his companions getting blown back made him feel weak. They’d already suffered enough through this. Going into an obvious trap to secure the mages was his choice. He insisted, and this was his fault. 

 

‘ _ Just let go…’ _ the voice echoed in his mind. 

 

“I won’t!” He shouted out of nowhere. 

 

Standing taller, he held out his hands, seeming to do nothing, until Alexius clutched his head, dropping to his knees. Varric glanced at him curiously. 

 

“Did you do that?” He asked. 

 

“Just wait…” he said. 

 

Thunderous roars erupted all around the man, his hood tinged with blood, though the others couldn’t hear a thing, judging by how bewildered or confused they seemed. More loud, booming thunder roared and despite not seeing anything, Alexius slid away, clutching his head. 

 

“St...op. I give up!” He shouted finally. 

 

Cherish let his hands fall to his sides. “Give it to him. Let him undo this mess.” 

 

He reached in his robes, holding it out towards him. Just as he grabbed it from him, however, it seemed something far worse was approaching. Leliana, Varric and Solas strode toward the door with no hesitation, but Dorian stopped him from following. 

 

“You have to stay put. This could end badly if you move. You’ll see them again if this works.” He assured him. 

 

He forced himself to stay put, frowning when he saw the woman from before by the door. She put a finger to her lips, grinning in a way that made his stomach feel both hollow and heavy at the same time. Worried, he looked to Dorian. 

 

“You see her, right?” He asked nervously. 

 

He looked over his shoulder, wincing when Leliana got struck. Assuming he meant her, he raised a quizzical brow, but nodded. 

 

“Yes, but perhaps it’s best you don’t look.” He warned. 

 

Before he had a chance to, they found themselves back in the meeting room, the others fine, if a bit surprised to see them. Cherish’s tail stood straight along his back in agitation, ready to continue the fight. Alexius, however, seemed completely done, giving up without further incident. 

 

“I...what just happened?” He asked quietly. “Does this mean we’re done here?” 

 

“Afraid not. You still have to get the mages on your side. Should be easy, the hard part’s over with.” Dorian said. “By the way...are you...feeling alright? Something seemed a little odd back there…” 

 

He blinked slowly, nodding. His face said he had no idea what he meant, “Yeah...I’m just fine.” 

 

“I see… well then, don’t let me keep you. I’ll wait here.” He sighed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel sort of unsatisfied with the pacing of this chapter. I apologize if it’s weird.


	22. Chapter 22

“You expect me to tell you what I know  _ before  _ I tell him?” Dorian asked, raising a brow. “Far be it for me to question your priorities, but i suppose he  _ has _ changed.” 

 

Leliana held up the journal, grimacing. “We of course wanted to tell him, but I felt the potential to implant suggestions in his head was too great at the moment. What can you tell me?” 

 

Dorian crosses his leg over his lap, shrugging. “Not much, I’m afraid. I certainly haven’t spent much time around him. I know he’s the servant of Magister Decius Vestelus. Last time I seen him he was slinking off with a noble woman.” 

 

“I feared this master might have asked such a thing. Of course I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, especially since Cherish seems to think quite highly of him.” She sighed. 

 

Dorian raised a brow, suppressing a quiet chuckle. “You have no idea, do you? The initial suggestion that he ‘make himself useful’ was not Decius’. It was his father’s. He took the advice to heart as a way to repay the family for taking him in. His father passed some few years ago, and neither was particularly heartbroken. He was a difficult man to deal with. My father in particular wasn’t very fond of him either. Decius clearly isn’t dead.” 

 

“We received reports to the contrary.” Leliana said plainly. 

 

“I’d expect nothing less. He’s involved in some particularly sensitive business at the moment. If he was truly dead, his seat would have opened. It’s not. No, more likely, he’s in hiding. He’ll have sent a proxy to deal with his business.” 

 

He examined his nails quietly as though pausing for dramatic effect, before continuing. “You want to know what he was like before? I can’t say much. Only that he had quite a temper when it was warranted, loyal almost to a fault always, from what little I observed. He seems curiously innocent now. I wonder what changed.” 

 

“We have no theories on that matter, just yet. At a guess, surviving an explosion and a trip to the fade could well have been traumatic for him in some capacity, who can say what effect that might have had.” She sighed. “If you think of anything else…” 

 

He stood, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll let you know, but as I said, I doubt that I will. I don’t know him very well. Though I realize we’re both from the same place, so we  _ must _ be very well acquainted.” 

 

Dorian walked out the door, Leliana following just outside the chantry before veering off to handle reports from the spies. Just past her tent, Varric and Cherish leaned against the low wall, and it sounded much like there was something curious going on. 

 

“Come on, you finally got a bit to relax. You got the mages, the Breach will be closed once they get there robes on and ironed. What’s the problem?” Varric asked. 

 

“My stomach hurts.” Cherish grumbled quietly. 

 

“Maybe you’re just hungry. Have you eaten?” He suggested. 

 

“No...it’s not that kind of pain. I feel like something bad is going to happen. Feels like knots in my stomach…” he told him. 

 

“It’s probably just… well, actually… I suppose you could be on to something. Hawke used to complain about stomachaches, and usually bad shit happened. Guess I shouldn’t say it’s nothing. Still, you certainly got enough power on hand to make sure the Breach gets closed. At least right this moment, I’m not seeing any immediate thing that could go wrong. At least there’s that.” 

 

Cherish shrugged, reaching to play with his tail in a way that usually seemed to mean he was trying to distract himself. “The mages were uncomfortable with me.” 

 

Varric nodded slowly. “They’re afraid. They almost got shipped off, got kicked out of Ferelden and into the care of someone who looks a lot like a demon. Never mind that it’s not true, most came from circles where consorting with demons was punishable by being made Tranquil, at the very least. They might be wary of you because they haven’t exactly gotten to know you.” 

 

Cherish frowned slightly, staring at his boots. “I see...so maybe if they got to know me, they’d be more comfortable?” 

 

“Probably.” Varric agreed. “But I’d give them a little time. Close the Breach, after they help, maybe they’ll see that you’re not there to hurt them. If they don’t...well, other people like you, so I still wouldn’t worry about it too much. Trust me, you can’t get everyone to like you. I’ve known plenty of people who tried.” 

 

“How do I know if I’m doing well though?” He questioned. 

 

“Take a look around. Sera, for example. You got her working with people who would usually not associate with her. She’s mostly playing nicely. Vivienne? This is beneath her, she’s still here. A Qunari spy and his merry band of misfits? Where do they fit in? Curly used to be very different. Very serious all the time. You actually got him to  _ smile! _ I never thought it was possible. I didn’t think he  _ could _ smile. You’ve got everyone playing nicely, and mostly everyone seems to like you. That’s the measuring stick I’d use.” Varric suggested. 

 

Cherish nodded once, slowly. “I never considered it that way. I just...can’t help but feeling like I was a worse person before, and I...don’t understand why I was bad enough to send away. People think Tevinter is bad, but...my master is the only one who cares enough to take care of me, the Imperium was the only place to welcome me. Now I’m here, and I don’t know what my place is anymore.” 

 

“You can’t possibly miss being told what to do?” Varric asked with a quiet chuckle. 

 

“No, it wasn’t like that, or at least I don’t think it was. It was more like...guidance. I miss having an idea of what I’m supposed to do, I miss not feeling so lost. Not just that, but everyone feels so... _ wrong. _ Even the pretty bird feels like sadness. It’s confusing. I’m lost…” he sighed.

 

“Don’t you think that’s reasonable? The weird mark, falling out of the fade, a trip to the future? It’s a bit much, I’d say. Of course you feel lost. It would be more unusual if you were just fine after all that.” Varric said. 

 

Leliana rounded the tent, a grim sort of expression on her face. “Herald...I...we received word, it seems the Templars have no intention of talking with us. They want nothing to do with us. I’m sorry, I had hoped the response would be favorable.” 

 

Cherish squeezed his tail, gritting his teeth with a heavy groan. “No...I wanted to get both. I thought I could make it work.” He let go of his tail, bobbing his head apologetically. “Forgive me...I need to go. I’ll come back, I just need to think.” 

 

He dashed off towards the gate, Varric and Leliana exchanging uneasy glances. “He’s having a tough time right now. I think it’s catching up to him.” 

 

Leliana nodded. “I imagine so. I could hear him. I’ll discuss it with Josie and Cullen, perhaps there’s a way we can entice him to get some rest once the breach is closed. I’d like to ensure he doesn’t push himself any further without cause.” 

 

“Let’s hope it isn’t too late for that. He’s a good kid, wish he could trust that much, if nothing else.” Varric sighed.


	23. Chapter 23

The Breach up close was terrifying somehow. Beautiful in a way, swirling with power and the prickling sensation like demons straining to try and press through. The surge of energy lent by the other mages was both foreign and a power that felt all too familiar. He wasn’t quite sure it was actually working, until it began to mend. 

 

_ “You like the power, don’t you?” He heard in his ear. “You remember that much?” _

 

_ “ _ I... don’t remember!” He muttered nervously. 

 

“What was that?” Solas asked curiously. 

 

“I said I don’t remember!” He repeated anxiously. 

 

“I’m not certain anyone expected you to? Are you...feeling alright?” He inquired. 

 

_ “Yes...why don’t you answer your friend. Tell him how you haven’t felt this much power in years, how you miss it, how you crave more of it.” The woman’s voice taunted gleefully.  _

 

“I’m fine, I’ve almost got it I think. I’m fine…” he mumbled, more like he was trying to reassure himself of that. 

 

The Breach left only a scar on the sky to mark that it was ever there, but with it, all of his energy. Cherish fell to his knee, head reeling with dizziness. 

 

“How...disappointing. No matter. You’ll need me soon enough. I can’t wait to remind you of what you once were…” the voice sighed, before disappearing. 

 

“Did...did you hear that?” He groaned, clutching his head. 

 

Cassandra helped him to his feet, letting go only for a moment before her hands shot out to catch him again when he started to slump down again. 

 

“Come on, kid. You’ve done it. Time to go rest up.” Varric said worriedly. 

 

“I’ll be alright, I’ll rest up when we get back to Haven. Promise.” Cherish said quietly. 

 

—-

 

Not long after the group returned, the mages returned to their quarters, the others veering off to join in the festivities. Cherish was wiped, stopping to sit on the stone wall, his back to a crate. After only a few moments, he curled up, tugging the edges of his cloak together with a soft yawn. 

 

Leliana came to congratulate him on the success, stopping to observe him for a moment before grabbing a nearly empty bag of fabrics dropped by for Threnn’s requisitions, carefully tucking it under his head. His tail thumped against his hip lazily, but it was obvious he was too tired to really be bothered by it. Even the shouting and cheers didn’t seem to trouble him. 

 

She watched Solas cross the yard, speaking with Cullen by the gate, a mildly concerned look on his face as he spoke. Cullen swept a hand along the back of his neck, nodding once before he departed. He was all business anyway, no surprise he was on alert, rather than take a moment to breathe, maybe have a drink. 

 

Maybe that was it. Cherish tried so hard to keep busy, and she couldn’t quite vouch for whether he had been like that before, but given that they seemed to be getting a little closer these days, it was possible he simply was trying to emulate him a bit. Yet, that one was currently off his feet resting, perhaps it might not actually be the case. Cassandra appeared to be changing a little as well. Prior to this, she seemed more annoyed than anything. That she helped him at all without complaint seemed like a good sign she might be slowly warming up to him, and his closure of the Breach may have done wonders for proving at last that he wasn’t just a kid from a place with a bad reputation. 

 

Josephine came out, observing the festivities with a tentative smile, Cullen finally coming over after a few minutes. 

 

“Any updates from your agents?” He asked. 

 

“Nothing yet. You’ll be the first to know if anything comes up.” She told him. 

 

“Very good.” Cullen replied. “Apparently there was a small concern at the Breach. Solas informed me something seemed a bit...off. Cherish - the Herald” he corrected himself quickly. “Was acting a bit strange. Well...stranger than normal at any rate.” 

 

“No surprise. He has exhibited a fair amount of magic at times, it’s entirely possible being near such a place, he might have been able to feel something there. He’s been exposed to plenty of demons, it’s not exactly outside the realm of possibility that he could hear whispers.” Leliana suggested. 

 

Josephine gestured with her quill towards him, tipping her head to the side just a bit. “He does look exhausted. Though I must say, he looks rather charming like that.” 

 

Cullen glances over, his brows lowering for just a moment. “He can’t be comfortable. He doesn’t like the cold.” 

 

Leliana held back a grin, opting not to address the statement. Rather, she pulled back the lid of a supply crate, fetching a blanket, handing it off to Cullen instead of covering him herself. Really, it was pure curiosity, she wanted to see if his concern would extend into action. He barely lent it a thought, crossing the few steps it took to get close enough to cover him up. He stirred for just a moment, clutching the blanket tighter before turning onto his side. 

 

He returned to the others, looking over the yard like a hawk. Even Adan was drinking, actually laughing for the first time that he’d seen since the man’s arrival. It seemed almost too good to be true, a moment’s peace since the explosion, another miracle courtesy of the Herald. Perhaps he should have given him a little more credit, while the mages were still a risk worth monitoring, it worked, and it made him question whether he was wrong to worry. 

 

“He’s done well. None of this would have been possible if not for him.” Josephine said quietly. 

 

“Indeed. It was well that Solas’ theory was correct. I’d rather not consider what might have happened if the mark didn’t work…” Leliana agreed. 

 

“Could you imagine this even a month ago?” Cullen wondered. “It’s taking a bit to sink in. It still doesn’t feel real. He actually managed to save Thedas. I’d say he’s definitely earned his rest.” 

 

“He must be truly exhausted to actually want to rest.” Josephine said worriedly. 

 

“Well, aside from missing out on the celebration? He’s not missing much.” Leliana said. 

 

The alarm bells rang out, the cause obvious from the vantage point. An entire army marching down through the mountains. Cherish shot upright, his head whipping around anxiously. 

 

“What is that?!” He gasped. 

 

Rising unsteadily to his feet, he followed their line of sight into the mountains, groaning. “Venedhis…” 

 

Leliana gestured the other two closer. “What’s the plan here? He’s clearly in no condition to fight. Even if he was, that’s too many for him, for any of us.” 

 

Culled frowned. “Plan? There’s no plan capable of getting us out of this. At best, we make it a challenge.” 

 

“Please...go.” Cherish mumbled. “I can stall them…” 

 

“Herald, respectfully, you’re barely standing. There’s nothing for this.” Josephine said sympathetically. “I know you want to help but…” 

 

_ “Did I not tell you that you would need me soon? What do you say? Let me help you. All these lives...you’d never forgive yourself if even one died.” The voice said in mock sadness. “These poor women. All your little friends. Innocent bystanders… your handsome commander...ooh, gone in mere moments!”  _

 

Cherish bit his lip, his tail coiling his leg and squeezing. Nothing but pure anxiety at the thought. If there truly was no other way...but...if this was the only way, he couldn’t…not when others could still get hurt. He didn’t know who the voice belonged to, couldn’t say what the woman was offering or what might be asked in return. Perhaps it was a demon, perhaps it wasn’t, he couldn’t be sure. 

 

“I am...the only thing that will slow this down. Please...just...get inside where you might have a small chance…” he pleaded. 

 

Josephine and Leliana relented, heading inside to see what could be done to mitigate the damage, if anything. 

 

Cullen shook his head. “I don’t like this. I can tell you don’t intend to back down on this…” 

 

“No...you’re right, I don’t.” He agreed. 

 

“Then...keep the trebuchets clear. If nothing else we can separate their forces. It may only delay the inevitable…” he sighed. 

 

“Not good enough. I swear to you. I won’t let a single soul die while I can still stand.” He promised. 

 

“I don’t know how that’s possible. I’ll fall back for now, perhaps there may yet be a way out, though I know of none.” He said. 

 

Cherish waited for him to retreat, before hanging his head. 

 

“Whoever you are...this is my body and you can’t have it.” He said defiantly. 

 

_ “Oh...this again?” The voice asked with a laugh. “I don’t want your body. If I must remind you, I want nothing from you. Not yet at least. The debt is not yours to bear.”  _

 

“Then why don’t you stop playing games and show yourself. Not just out of my vision. I want to see who it is that wants to play.” He said, less confident, thrown by the statement. 

 

_ “Is that so? All you had to do was say so. Very well, I’ll come out. It’s been such a long time.” She laughed.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I’m (briefly) about to introduce the one Cherish’s Tiefling lineage is from.


	24. Chapter 24

Cherish shook on his feet, fully aware he was wiped, physically and magically. Just the act of closing the Breach, even with the help of so many mages was too much of a strain. Soldiers ran to the trebuchets, while others ran inside the chantry, a last bastion for those not plagued with fear that still made little sense. 

 

Slowly, what appeared to be a black haired woman sauntered around from his back to stand in front of him. She smiled and it sent uncomfortable chills racing down his spine. So this was the woman he kept seeing, just out of the corner of his vision. The one who spoke to him when his thoughts wandered ever so slightly. 

 

“You should go inside. There’s not much you can do when you can barely stand.” Solas called to him curiously. 

 

“What are we doing?” Bull asked almost excitedly. 

 

Cherish began to turn to look, but the woman’s hand graced his jaw, directing his focus back to her. Dark eyes dancing like fire very nearly. He couldn’t bring himself to look away, not when his guts twisted with the feeling something wasn’t right. Unknowingly, he stood stock still in truth. The woman glanced over his shoulder, calling to the others and waving a bit before she spoke. 

 

“Only you can see me, because you asked, and because I have willed it so.” She said. “It’s no good to me to show myself so freely.” 

 

“How do I know you’ll let me go?” He asked shakily, not looking away from her eyes.

 

“I could make promises all day and you’d never really know whether I’ll keep my word or decide to overstay my welcome.” She laughed. 

 

“You in there?” Varric asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “I think he broke…” 

 

“Time’s wasting, little prince.” She said pointedly. “I haven’t allowed you to die yet. I still have use for you. Besides, looking like this? Why would I trade this for you? I’m not going  _ inside _ you. Just...lending you a minuscule portion of my own power. Not something I’d do for anyone I had no use for.” 

 

“What is there for you then? What do you get out of helping me?” He asked cautiously. “Demons trick, after all.” 

 

The woman seemed almost offended at that. “I am no  _ demon. _ I’m far greater. What I get is a little  _ insurance _ that I will get what I bargained for all those years ago. You will ascend.” 

 

Cherish saw the armies marching closer to the village, pointed teeth scraping firmly against his lip worriedly. They’d reach the edge in mere minutes at this rate. There wasn’t a better option presenting itself. Trust this woman, or die struggling.

 

“Do what you will, I don’t have any choice.” He sighed. 

 

Her hands tipped his head back a little, thumbs pulling his lip down, his mouth hung open slightly. She exhaled just as he breathed in, patting his cheeks once before letting go. She grinned, watching him hunch over, coughing. 

 

“It...stings, why is it burning?” He choked. 

 

“Why indeed. You may learn someday, but not this one.” She chuckled; a surprisingly melodious sound. “By the way. When you get up there, and all is said and done? I’ll be wanting that back. Now go, before your lackeys think you’ve let them down.” 

 

In a mere moment, she vanished, as though she were never there. Cherish shook his head slowly. Varric sighed heavily. 

 

“You were really concerning me, kid. Don’t do that. You went still and just kept staring off.” He muttered. 

 

“I was…” he stopped, seeming to realize that much was looking to be true. They really hadn’t seen or heard her. “Wasn’t I talking?” 

 

“No.” Bull said plainly. “Just staring.” 

 

The burning passed, and cold air rushed into his lungs again. Something in that act felt like it sparked and then ignited, there was warmth throughout his body, and strength incomparable pulsing through him. His magic slowly returned, and then flooded, like there was nowhere for it to go but to burst from him. He drew his daggers, and then it exploded. Fire raced along his blades, his arms, eyes shifting from a placid lake to a raging fire, bright red from edge to edge. He gestured to the trebuchet closest to the gate, his voice slightly off, a touch deeper, his tone more confident and sure than usual. 

 

“So, shall we play with them?” He asked with a giggle. 

 

Solas stares at him curiously, Varric offering a slight tilt of his head before loading a bolt. 

 

“Might as well. Could be the last thing we do.” He sighed. 

 

“Oh, it won’t be. I promised no one would die, it’ll be fun.” He said, bursting through the gate in time to come face to face with something huge, before it slumped down. He locked eyes with a young man in a wide brimmed hat, Cullen’s voice rising over the roar of the battle to issue orders to his men and to the mages. Part of him was glad he wasn’t near enough to see. It made little sense at the moment, but he couldn’t stand the thought. 

 

“He’s scared for everyone. Scared for you most of all.” The man said softly. “You’re scared you’re a monster, that he’ll see, and hate you for it. He won’t.” 

 

Cherish stopped curiously, wondering how he could possibly have known any of that. He himself wasn’t even sure what the problem was. To hear it said so plainly gave him pause. 

 

“We don’t have time to talk.” Bull reminded him. 

 

“I…” he began. 

 

“It’s alright. I can help. We will meet again. You should go.” He said. 

 

Cherish shook his head again, losing track of the man in a rush of soldiers. Rushing for the trebuchet, they arrived just in time for his daggers to sink in between the red lyrium shards jutting from the chest of what seemed to be a Templar. Bull, Varric and Solas spread around, helping to fend off the waves of enemies while a young woman hurriedly turned the crank. A spindly hand grasped his shoulder, and flames roared off his skin, the hand moving away, a hiss of pain following. He turned, enough to free one blade and reach back to strike his assailant. Rather than quenching the flames stoked inside him, each kill added to it, like tossing a log into a roaring fire. If this was such a small amount of the woman’s power...it seemed completely inconceivable. Could even a god have such power? Not a demon...then what could she have been? 

 

“Go to the other trebuchet, it isn’t firing!” The woman urged. 

 

“Dare I ask why you’re not concerned about being on fire?” Varric asked dryly. 

 

“Seen some use something like it. Set themselves on fire with alchemical flasks. He doesn’t smell so much like it though. Sort of campfirey. Kinda nice.” Bull suggested. 

 

“Well. That makes this all perfectly normal. Nothing weird about it.” Varric said in mock acceptance. 

 

“Whether it’s weird or not, we’re not done by half, so let’s finish the game first.” He said playfully. 

 

“You should focus on keeping them busy. I’ll figure this out.” Varric said, heading to inspect the siege weaponry. 

 

“I don’t know the first thing about those, suits me fine.” Cherish said. “Let’s race. Who can finish up first?”

 

“3 to 1? I’ll take those odds.” Varric said with a grin. “I got the easy job.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like a part one. Haven I haven’t figured out how many parts there’ll be to this section.


	25. Chapter 25

“Looks like you really did have the easier job.” Solas observed. 

 

Cherish had just long enough to glance up, before a dragon swooped down, destroying the trebuchet, knocking him into the dirt and back several feet before he skidded to a stop, wincing at the pain he felt, more intense than before, but blocked away in a few moments, like a book saved for later. 

 

“Is everyone okay?” He asked. 

 

“Been better.” Varric grumbled. 

 

“Everyone has. We should head back inside until we figure out if there are any options. Not like it can’t fly over the gate, I guess.” Cherish suggested. 

 

Dashing back up the path, he had to stop. The blacksmith kicked at his door, and Bull smashed through with a gesture, before rejoining near the gate. Cullen waved them in frantically before it was slammed shut behind him. Explaining the mostly hopeless nature of the mess they were now in, he paused, staring at Cherish for a bit. 

 

“Are you...alright?” He asked. 

 

Following his gestures to his weapons, his body, his face, he could only offer a sheepish smile in his defense. 

 

“It doesn’t hurt.” He said. “Feels kind of nice, like a warm coat.” 

 

The frown growing on his face made his stomach sink in record time. There it was. He was disappointed. Or maybe he really did hate him now. His slight smile began to fade, following his finger towards his face. His fingertips were spotted in warm blood. 

 

“You’re hurt…” Cullen said. “I suppose it’s a bit late to say it now, but I wished you would have taken better care of yourself. You’re so reckless.” 

 

He was...worried. That brought the smile back, laughing then, not something one expected to see in the middle of a battlefield, and indeed, the few people nearby stopped to stare for a moment. 

 

“Ahh, I am at that. I didn’t even feel it.” He admitted. 

 

“Look. There’s really nothing left. At best we might be able to use one more trebuchet, however…” he paused. 

 

“To do that, we destroy Haven anyway…” Cherish finished. “Get back inside. See if there are any other options we can use. Maybe the dungeons? I’ll do a quick sweep for anyone who hasn’t made it to the chantry. I can’t stop this, I’m sure, but I can at least slow them down.”

 

“I can’t see subjecting you to a war we’re not going to win…” he sighed. 

 

“I’ll come by in a bit to make sure everyone gets to safety.” He said, disregarding his statement entirely, shaking his head. “We’re going to survive, so when I see you, I hope you’ve got something for me.” 

 

Cullen sighed more heavily, nodding finally. He couldn’t see a way through it, but he agreed. “Very well. I’ll try and come up with something.” 

 

Not more than a few moments after he left for the chantry, Cherish could hear noises all around the area. He listened for a moment, running up the path to a small shelter on fire, someone inside called out. 

 

“Sounds like Seggrit.” Bull noted. 

 

Cherish lashed out at the door with two solid strikes, the wood breaking apart. He ducked his head to the side, stepping through the fire to scoop him up, passing him out to Bull before coming back out. A bit further and Lysette struggled to fend off a few Templars. 

 

_ “Those things are getting tiresome. Entertain me.”  _ The woman’s voice called from far off. 

 

Confused, he stayed back to put his daggers away, watching his friends help her. He glanced to his hip, to the drum he had hung off it, the same one he found in the Fallow Mire. 

 

“I don’t remember the old songs…” he muttered irritably. 

 

_ “Think. Recall the way you used to entertain and charm your master’s guests. Concentrate, little prince.” She lectured.  _

 

His tail rose, steadily thumping against the edge slowly, then a little faster, faster as the memory creeped through his mind, red eyes focused on the Templars, cracking thunder forking out from seemingly nowhere, Varric shooting the last one standing.

 

“Thank you.” She said, running past. 

 

Passing the tavern, Solas pointed to the door. “It sounds like someone is inside.” 

 

Bull cleaved the door in half, enough of it falling off for Cherish to slip through. Looking around, Flissa called out to him, her voice afraid and pained. Squatting down, he pried a falling beam off her, pulling her out. He let go long enough to stand up, pulling her to her feet and leading her out. He barely had time to bring her to a safe place before there was more yelling, more pleading. Running quickly up the stone steps, he could see Adam and Minaeve next to some explosive pots, fire racing towards them. Not enough time to pull them back far enough. 

 

Instead, he pulled Adan over next to Minaeve, laying over them, spreading his vest out as much as he could manage, trying to avoid directly touching them. The pots exploded, bits or clay pottery embedded in his shoulder and along his arm, rolling to the side so Bull and Solas could help them up. Varric clicked his tongue, pulling the pieces out of his arm. 

 

“Look, it’s heroic helping others, but you should still try to be more careful.” He sighed, a tinge of worry in his tone, despite the singular laugh that followed. 

 

Helping Adan, Minaeve and Flissa back to the chantry slowed them down a bit, and just by the door, a few mothers helped them in, Threnn struggling by the opposite door. Cherish thumped a faster rhythm, grabbing his daggers once more. His hands felt too strange without them, it seemed. His friends stood taller, fought harder, and struck with purpose. He recalled the fervor of the rhythm, but not how he knew it or what made him recall the way it felt to hear it. 

 

They wandered back into the chantry, Cherish approaching Cullen with a grin, arms crossed behind his head. “So then. What have you got for me, Commander? I held up my end. Found whoever I could, came back. What’s the plan?” 

 

He nodded towards a pillar, Roderick resting on the bottom, clearly dying. The young man he’d seen at the gate tending to him quietly. 

 

“Roderick says there’s a path he can show us.” He sighed. 

 

“But?” He asked curiously. 

 

“Unless we do something about the Elder One and his dragon, there’s nothing to stop him following us.” Cullen finished. 

 

“How long do you need?” Cherish asked. 

 

“Until we make it over the tree line. A signal could be fired up.” He suggested. 

 

“Then let it be me.” He said. 

 

“I can’t ask that of you…” he said hesitantly. 

 

“The fun part is you’re  _ not.  _ I’m going, regardless.” He giggled excitedly. 

 

“If I know you at all, I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this?” He questioned. 

 

“No.” He said bluntly. 

 

“I’ll send a few soldiers with to help load up the last trebuchet. If you keep him busy until we escape, find a way to get out yourself. Find a way back.” He said. 

 

Cherish’s grin leveled out seriously, cocking his head slightly. “Is that what you want? Is that an order?” 

 

Cullen laughed quietly. “Not an order. It would certainly be ideal. Yes, I’d rather you come back, if it were up to me.” 

 

Cherish thought it over for a few moments, nodding thoughtfully. “Then I will.” 

 

Going to the door, Varric, Solas and Bull began to follow, but he shook his head. “Stay. I’ve got this. Make sure everyone gets out alright.” 

 

“As you wish…” Solas said with a frown. 

 

He ran off, flanked by the soldiers, rushing out towards the trebuchet, agreeing only to stay as long as it took to get it set up. This was easier to deal with, if he only had to manage himself. 

 

“What is he thinking?” Varric muttered. 

 

“I wonder. I don’t know if he is.” Cullen said. 

 

“Everything hurts. Lungs burning, even now, it might not be enough...I hope it’s enough. Want to remember that smile. Come back. He said to come back. Guess I have no choice now. I’ll be right back…” the young man said quietly. 

 

They glanced over to him curiously. Cullen raised a brow. There’s no way to say with certainty if that was  _ actually  _  what he was thinking. He’d like to believe it east all true, but it seemed to reflect reality. He was spent, utterly and completely, and he had said he’d come back, maybe he really would come back. 

 

Varric grimaced. “Can we not just have  _ one  _ normal day around here?” 


	26. Chapter 26

“ _ Capy alv edih, ydvyr aly ”  _ Cherish growled. 

 

The signal hadn’t gone up, and the soldiers had cleared out, retreating as promised. All that was left was just to confront this mysterious figure and his pet, and hopefully figure out how not to die. 

 

_ “Really? Still doubting me? I’ve told you how this goes. I keep you alive, and then I come and take it back. I can feel the fear. I’d advise you not make me look bad by pissing yourself.” The woman scolded.  _

 

Her words echoed deep in his mind as though he’d thought it himself, save it had a voice not his. A figure slowly walked towards him through the roaring fire, stopping in front of him. The beast landed behind him, hot breath disheveling his hair, before a single gesture stopped his approach. So, at least it was trained. Being dragon food wasn’t an ideal situation in any respect. His tail swept in the fire, catching on the tip. Anything he could think of to distract. Indeed, the Elder One looked him over curiously, undeterred. 

 

“I’ve seen your kind before. Children, fumbling, foolish, things.” He said. 

 

Cherish bit his inner lip, too stubborn to bring himself to ask any questions. He’d destroyed the village, puts lives at risk, there was nothing but anger welled up in his chest. Even if he knew things he’d like to know. The man rambled on of gods that don’t answer, of the golden city and the Maker’s absence. He shook his head. 

 

“You’re wrong. The Chant says someone breached the golden city, and every step, it grew black. Master said bad people infected the city and brought the blight! There’s nothing the Maker doesn’t see!” He argued. 

 

“ _ Blah, blah, blah. You mortals and your Maker. You said you wanted to play, so  _ **_play_ ** .” She demanded. 

 

Almost without a thought, without a conscience thought to do so, he moved, dashing towards him, only to have a massive, spindly hand wrap tightly around his throat, raising him up off the ground, his toes searching uselessly for solid ground. 

 

“This is your fault!” He gasped. 

 

“ _ So I made a bad call. It happens.” _

 

Cherish tried to answer, but the words choked and gurgled and died in his strangled throat, his hand shooting with what had to be high on the list of the worst pain he’d felt in ages, before it stopped. His vision swam when Corypheus stopped, words failing to sink in as his head throbbed, on the cusp of losing consciousness. He felt the cold, the wooden crank digging into his spine. Though it took more effort than he liked to admit to get to his feet. It felt like ages that he’d stood on these grounds, and still, he had to distract longer. 

 

_ “Isn’t that your beacon?” She questioned.  _

 

_ “How can you see it if you’re not inside me?” He thought.  _

 

_ “We are linked right now. I hear, I see, nothing is hidden from me. I even know what you’re thinking.” She answered.  _

 

Indeed, it seemed like the signal was up. He stumbled, jolting the crank enough to fire. Corypheus seemed to get away before the avalanche impacted, blowing him back and through a panel of wood, dropping him painfully into a cave. It was freezing, and filled with demons. They died easily enough, the Anchor flaring up in a different way from before, swallowing away the few demons as easily as if he had imagined their presence. 

 

His breath clouded heavily, chest heaving. The fire on his skin flickered, dying out in the cold, bitter win. He tripped out into the snow, body wracked with violent shivers well before he stood again, stumbling slowly. 

 

“ _ Well. Of course it would be cold and icy. You’ve got a long trip up the mountain. I’m not going to be much use here. I’ll be taking my power back now. Stygia isn’t my domain and your blood won’t protect you from this.” She said nonchalantly.  _

 

Little by little, he felt the pains in his body grow almost unbearably, barely numbed by the cold. She really had just abandoned him. At the very least, the silence was nice. The howling wind the only thing keeping him struggling. Too cold, too far. It was getting hard to think. Footprints barely covered by a freshly blowing snow meant people had come through not long ago, a small campfire with dying embers another hopeful sign. Cherish frowned, shedding his cloak, the thick fabric crumpling in a heap. He loosened the leather strings on his tunic, teeth chattering loudly before his vision blackened and the ground grew larger, closer. 

  
  


“There, fetch him!” Cassandra ordered. 

 

Cullen glanced down the path, sighing to himself before going to grab his discarded cloak. 

 

Mother Giselle grimaced when he was put into a bedroll. She waved a healer over, the realization of all the work ahead of her intimidating. Cuts, bruises, his skin like ice? No one should have survived that, and yet he did, injured as he was. 

 

Solas watched silently for a time. Nothing for it.  _ That _ discussion would have to wait, it seemed. If his past history offered any indication, he’d be out for some time. He’d have to offer a direction. It wouldn’t do for him to have saved these lives only for them to freeze to death on a mountain.

 

* * *

Cherish finally awoke not long after they arrived at the new base of operations. A place called ‘Skyhold. It was unsettling. A remembrance of his younger days, waking up in a room he hadn’t recalled being in, covered and comfortable. 

 

It was an effort to walk, the pain lessened, but not gone by half. Worse still, he was ambushed the moment he poked his head out. Matched in front of everyone gathered in the yard, led bodily up the stairs, Leliana holding a sword out. A big job, one that almost looked too heavy for him. It seemed he was being approached to lead. 

 

“ _ I’ve...been invited to a party?” He heard himself say, softer. “Why?”  _

 

_ “It’s impolite to question. You accept. Accept and figure out the answers for yourself.” A stern voice told him.  _

 

“Will you do it? Will you lead the inquisition?” Cassandra pressed. 

 

‘Don’t question…’ he thought. 

 

“I...I will.” He mumbled. 

 

Cheers erupted in the yard, leaving him utterly bewildered in addition to hurting, the blade every bit as heavy as he imagined it must be. However, once the crowd dispersed, Cassandra took it for him, Cullen and Josephine ascending the stairs to join in. 

 

“Do I...what am I supposed to do?” He asked wearily. 

 

Josephine raised her quill seriously. “Your first order of business is…” 

 

“You’re to go to bed.” Leliana finished. 

 

“You  _ did _ say you would before...all of this.” Cullen reminded him. 

 

“You’ll get no arguments.” He sighed, turning to head down the stairs. 

 

“Your room is ready.” Cassandra said. 

 

“I’m going that way as it is. I’ll show you.” Josephine offered. 

 

He nodded, raising his head as best he could, refusing the help this time. Vivienne said appearances mattered, showing weakness so publicly was bad. Josephine took note, watching the way he seemed to shrink the minute the door closed. She held out her hand and he clutched it immediately, accepting her help up the stairs. The centerpiece of the room was definitely the bed. It was large and luxurious, a far cry from camping, and even fancier than those of the local inns he’d stayed in a time or two. 

 

Cherish immediately crossed the room to it, falling in without a second thought. Josephine laughed quietly in amusement. 

 

“I shall see to it you’ll go undisturbed for a time. Please rest.” She said. 

 

“I intend to. I feel like I could sleep for an hour.” He sighed. 

 

“I do hope you plan to sleep longer than that. We’re still setting up, there isn’t much to see to for now, take advantage of it while you can.” She lectured with concern. 

 

“I’ll try.” He murmured.

 

Rolling lazily to the side, he grabbed the edge of the blanket, covering up tightly.

 

“ _ I told you. You have begun to ascend.” The woman gloated.  _

 

_ “You came back. Didn’t think you would.” He snorted.  _

 

Rolling over, he panicked when the woman was right there in bed next to him _.  _

 

“Please, you’ve had more shocking things than a woman in your bed.” She said. 

 

“I don’t remember, you must know this.” He argued. 

 

“Of course. But I do.” She said proudly. 

 

“What do you mean ‘begun to ascend?’ They just made me Inquisitor.” He said. 

 

“This is just a first step. You will be much more.” She sighed. “You have no imagination.” 

 

“This reminds me. You never even told me your name. Too tired to get into  _ what _ you are…” he observed. 

 

“Fierna. I don’t know how many times I must tell you.” She said with no small amount of frustration. “Do try to retain it this time, little prince.” Clicking her tongue at him, she added. “You’re no fun.” 

 

In a blink, she was gone again. All the better for him. Cherish stretched out, staring up at the ceiling. He was trying to will his pain off just a bit more so he could get to sleep. It was difficult to get there, more when his mind kept reminding him of all that needed to be done now. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Capy alv edih, ydvyr aly - ‘Come and play, Elder One’ in Infernal.


	27. Chapter 27

Varric sighed, shaking his head. “You made it one day. I’m not remotely surprised anymore, but you should have rested more. Heard you broke a rib, how are you still holding up?” 

 

Cherish grinned, shrugging. “I really shouldn’t be, but I’m up so I might as well meet these contacts of yours, at least.” 

 

“I  _ did _ mention we maybe  _ don’t  _ want Cassandra to know about this, didn’t I?” He asked. 

 

“Only about five times on the way up here!” He giggled. 

 

“Okay. I have a strong sense of self-preservation. Just making sure you got just how important it is.” He muttered. 

 

“I’m not going to tell her.” He swore. “Besides, she doesn’t listen to me much anyway.” 

 

“Just up ahead.” He said, pointing to an out of the way area on the battlements. “They should be here already.” 

 

Cherish dashed towards the edge, bounding over, skipping the few steps, beaming proudly until he landed, clutching his chest where the breaks were said to be the worst. 

 

“You must be the one he calls ‘Devil’.” A voice called behind him. 

 

He turned around, jumping slightly when all he saw was a very trim figure, following it upward to a pair of curious eyes. She was tall. A mage, if the staff said anything. Smell of the sea, and embrium. Docked recently and came straight here? 

 

“Varric? Varric...why ‘ _ devil _ ’?” He pouted. 

 

“Thought the pun potential was high. ‘Devil’s luck’ ‘handsome devil’, give me time, I’ll think of more.” He said with a shrug. 

 

“Well...actually, no, that makes sense. That’s very clever.” He conceded. “Introduce me to your statuesque friend?”

 

“Hear that? He called me ‘statuesque’. Can’t just take him back to Kirkwall  _ now _ , can I?” She asked. 

 

“Sorry, Hawke. He’s a busy guy.” Varric said. 

 

“Hawke? You mean the Hawke you mentioned before?” Cherish asked, completely interested. 

 

“That’s me. Champion of Kirkwall, absolutely hilarious apostate, and kicker of bad guy ass.” She said with a small smirk. 

 

“I think you forgot a few things, Arista.” A man said. 

 

“Guessing you two came together?” Varric asked. 

 

“Not at all.” Hawke said. “Coincidence we got here around the same time.” 

 

“Inquisitor, allow me to formally introduce Arista Hawke, and Sebastian Vael.” He announced, paying particularly close attention to Sebastian’s reaction. “Hawke, Sebastian, meet the Inquisitor.” 

 

“Varric, if I may suggest...this may be best conducted in private.” Sebastian suggested quietly. 

 

“My room?” Cherish asked curiously. 

 

“Perfect. Varric can bring us. We’ll meet you there.” Hawke interjected. 

 

Cherish clutched his arm loosely, opting to go the other way to his room, trying to get a feel for the layout of the fortress. He stopped, realizing he’d walked right into someone’s office, about to turn and leave. 

 

“Ah. There you are.” Cullen said, glancing up from a pile of papers. 

 

“I’m sorry, am I late?” He asked curiously. 

 

“No, nothing like that. I just…” he kneaded the back of his neck. “I worried.” 

 

“I slept, I swear!” He said with a soft laugh.

 

He forced a smile, nodding slowly. “I’m glad. I...took the liberty of assigning extra guard rotations for the time being. Barracks are all set up, the mages are settled again.” 

 

“So quickly? That’s unexpected. Did  _ you _ sleep?”

 

“I...yes, after a time. Not for long…” he admitted. 

 

“Haven...it’s bothering me too.” Cherish murmured faintly. “Everyone seemed so happy to see me, I forgot how scared I was...then it all came back…” 

 

Cullen nodded to that. “I understand. I’m making every adjustment possible to ensure the safety of our people.” 

 

Cherish sighed. Figuring that meant he had more to do, turning to leave. He felt the warmth of his hand on his wrist, glancing at it for a moment. His heart hammered hard against his chest, once, loudly, almost too loud. Perhaps he was still in shock, just jumpy. Nothing to worry about. He turned, staring up at him, unsure what to say. 

 

“You stayed behind. Alone...you could have…” he began, hesitating. “I won’t let it happen again. Not here, not this time.” 

 

His hand found its way to loosely cover his, managing to escape his conscious thought. He smiled brightly. “I would do it again without a thought. I’ve come to like the people here. I don’t want you...them, hurt.” 

 

Cullen let go slowly, walking back to his desk, hunching over maps and reports, sighing. “I suppose I shouldn’t keep you, almost too much to do…” 

 

Remembering Varric and his guests, he excused himself, trying his best not to look like he was in a hurry, but still quick about it. His room was the easiest place to find, so far, but it’s where’s he’d ended up spending the most time. He paused outside the inner door, pressing his ear to the door curiously when he heard voices. 

 

“What’s on your mind, Choir Boy?” Varric asked. 

 

“Not that I’m conceding you’re at all right, but he has the eyes. That’s not enough for something like this!” Sebastian argued. “My parents were firm Andrastians, their faith was strong. What other reason could there be for why he looks like  _ that _ ?”

 

“I think he’s adorable. Says more for Starkhaven than I’ve seen thus far.” Hawke said. 

 

“Yes, but your taste is hardly virtuous as it is, Arista. We’re friends. You don’t have to remind me that demon-possessed was your type.” Sebastian countered. 

 

“You didn’t see the mark. It’s  _ your _ crest. There’s no doubt.” Varric told him. “Faith in the Maker never stopped people from doing bad things. Maybe he wasn’t the saint you remember. Nothing at all suspicious?”

 

Sebastian fell silent for a time, exhaling slowly. “When I was a young boy, my father mentioned a child, but I never saw it. He told me the child didn’t make it. It wasn’t ever discussed beyond that...I suppose it could...no. No. There’s just no way he’s my brother.” 

 

“At least stay a few days. Get to know him. I’m not asking you to change your mind, just, spend a little time with him.” Varric suggested. 

 

A heavy sigh. “Fine. If I could play nice with Anders for years, I can get to know the Inquisitor for a few days. Besides, doubtless there’s a need for me here for a time.” 

 

Cherish bit his lip, forcing himself to smile, to hold his head up when he finally entered the room, trying his best to at least  _ look _ like he hadn’t been listening in, that he’d only just got in. 

 

“Speaking of.” Varric chuckled. 

 

“Sorry. I ran into Cullen on the way here.” He said apologetically. 

 

Hawke stood up, pulling back his tunic enough to peek at his back. Cherish glances back, but didn’t seem to be very concerned. The contact at least didn’t seem strange to him. Sebastian hesitantly stepped closer, staring at the mark curiously. There was no denying it  _ looked _ like the Vael crest, but that didn’t dismiss coincidence, or perhaps some sort of dark magic. An unusual tattoo? 

 

There was no way his family had anything to do with him. Consorting with demons? He couldn’t even imagine how. They certainly weren’t mages. Coincidence, surely. 

 

“I...I realize I’m injured, but I can do my job. Please don’t concern yourself with the condition.” He mumbled. 

 

“I was just thinking how lucky for me your face wasn’t hurt.” Hawke said teasingly. 

 

Cherish hung his head sheepishly, his cheeks purpling just a touch in what could best be guessed as blushing. Hawke picked up on it immediately, winking at him to see what he’d look like with a stronger blush. She seemed amused. 

 

“Hawke, don’t tease the poor kid.” Varric sighed. 

 

“You said to leave Cullen alone, and he never looked twice, and  _ you _ barely acknowledged my flirting. You can’t expect me not to tease a little.” She pouted. 

 

Varric seemed a bit frustrated over something, but it was difficult to decide whether it was Sebastian or Hawke or something else entirely. 

 

“ _ Anyway _ . Hawke had information to share with you about Corypheus.” Varric reminded her. 

 

“Right. I suppose that  _ was _ why I was asked here.” She said. “You never write me just to meet your friends.” 

 

“No one said you had to leave right away.” He pointed out. 

 

There was a knock at the door, and Cherish dashes down the steps to answer it. A fresh faced scout presented him with a tray of sliced candies apples. 

 

“Lady Josephine asked that I bring you something to eat, said you ain’t had nothin’ for a few days.” He said. 

 

He accepted the tray with a delighted smile. “Thank her for me, and thank you for bringing it.” 

 

He saluted and left, Cherish distractedly wandering back up the steps. “We can discuss it after this. The princess has the best food.” 

 

Sebastian frowned a little at the stray thoughts crossing his mind. Princess? Surely that wasn’t the case. 


	28. Chapter 28

Cherish wandered the fortress, trying to wrap his mind around everything. About Hawke and Varric’s previous encounter with Corypheus, about her Warden contact in Crestwood. Blackwall was supposed to be a Warden, maybe he could save him some trouble and tell him what was going on? Maybe not...he knew nothing of Wardens, and it was possible Blackwall didn’t rank high enough? 

 

What of what he overheard from Sebastian. He was clearly suspicious of his appearance. A chantry man, one who clearly believed that his father was a strongly religious man. Cherish didn’t really remember his father. Maybe it was him, maybe it wasn’t. He wasn’t wrong to be suspicious of that much. What he said did linger in his mind though. His father had mentioned a child that didn’t make it? He certainly has no memory of ever living in a castle, and he had to get to Seheron somehow? What if his father had written him off as dead? Could he really be his father? Maybe his mother had mentioned it, but he couldn’t think clearly about it right now. 

 

_ “You’re wondering about it now. Straining this precious little brain for any scrap of information. I’d tell you, but I  _ _ want  _ _ you to remember it for yourself. You have all the pieces. I’ll be around when you figure it out.” Fierna’s voice echoed in his thoughts.  _

 

_ “You’re not very helpful…” he thought.  _

 

_ “I already said I won’t let you die. That’s enough. Besides, this is more fun.” She said.  _

 

“This will end in your defeat, commander.” He heard. 

 

Curious, he followed the sound, stopping when he saw Dorian and Cullen sitting across from each other, playing a game of chess. He was mid-play when he noticed him, about to get up. 

 

“Leaving are you? Does this mean I win?” Dorian teased. 

 

Cullen frowned, immediately sitting down. 

 

_ “So he’s that kind of man. Interesting. No wonder you find him so fascinating.” She hummed thoughtfully.  _

 

_ “Cullen? I don’t…” he began.  _

 

_ “I know your mind. Perhaps you don’t. I know you fancy him. I know every time the thoughts have crossed your mind. Lingering just outside your conscious thought. Perhaps I’ll make sure he finds out.” She laughed.  _

 

_ “You wouldn’t…” he thought.  _

__

_ “Perhaps I might not have to. Snap out of it, he’s been talking to you.” She said pointedly.  _

 

“Unless...you would care for a game?” He asked, gesturing to the seat across from him. 

 

He vaguely remembered chess. His master was fond of it, his father had even played against him a time or two. One of the few good things he could recall of him. 

 

_ “Well? Are you going to stand there forever or are you going to answer him?” She asked impatiently.  _

 

“Oh! Uh...yes, yes, of course.” He said finally. 

 

Cherish slid his tail across his lap, awkwardly double checking before taking a seat. He folded his hands in his lap. Watching him set the pieces back into place. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to be distracted for a while. 

 

“Do you play often?” Cherish asked curiously. 

 

“Not much in recent times. As a child, however, I played against my sister. She was always so smug whenever she won...which was all the time…” he admitted. “My brother and I practiced for weeks.” He grinned. “The look on her face the day I finally won… but between serving the Templars and the Inquisition, I haven’t seen them in years. I wonder if she still plays…” 

 

Cherish bit his lip, staring at the pieces in thought. Cullen sounded like he had much more experience than he did. His position as commander of the Inquisition’s forces? There had to be very little chance he didn’t have a thousand strategies. Like the movements of his troops, his forces could easily overwhelm any fledgling formations he might conceive of. He grimaced, finally settling on a piece and a place. 

 

“I didn’t know you had siblings.” Cherish commented.

 

“Two sisters, and a brother.” He said “what about you?” 

 

He barely looked before making his move, focused more on him at the moment. His face felt warm. Was he actually blushing? Why was he blushing? Fierna’s teasing flashed back into him mind. Maker, was it actually possible he had feelings for him? The great, unattainable commander? The question made him think of Sebastian again. He had no idea if they actually were related, how was he supposed to answer that?

 

“I’m...not quite sure. Maybe a brother, but I don’t know…” he said, wishing he hadn’t almost immediately. “Where are they now?” 

 

Cullen felt a bit foolish for asking after his answer. Of course, he didn’t remember much, but that it again managed to slip his mind was awkward. He kept his attention on him. It was remarkable how much he resembled the night sky, only… he didn’t quite recall the purplish hue to his cheeks. It hit him after a bit. He was blushing. It was...fascinating, really, he didn’t recall ever seeing it. Kind of cute. 

 

_ “Not something that should be crossing my mind…” he thought. “This is the Inquisitor, symbol and leader of this whole cause...and beyond that, another man. Not sure how he’d feel about that. Not sure how  _ _ I  _ _ feel about that…”  _

 

“They moved to South Reach after the Blight. I… don’t write to them as often as I should…” he sighed. “Ah. It’s my turn.” 

 

Cherish grinned, the slight points of his teeth gently pressing into his lip when he did. He leaned forward just a bit, unable to stop wondering why he was so intrigued by him. Was it simply that he’d been so kind to him? That he’d taken the time to walk with him in Haven? Was it that he was stunning, because he’d have to have been blind to never have noticed, but he hadn’t lent it over much thought until she had to go and point it out. Now he couldn’t  _ not _ think about it. 

 

“Alright, let’s see what you got.” He said. 

 

Cullen moved another piece, and conversation lapsed for a while in favor of focusing, each sneaking glances at each other when the other looked away. Cherish struggles to keep afloat, occasionally making a face, nose wrinkling and brows raised in thought. His tail tapped on his knee. It had been some time since he last played, that much he was certain of. His tongue swept his lips, a bit dry. 

 

Across the yard, hidden by some tall bushes, Varric and Sebastian watched, Sebastian curling his hand at his chin, brow furrowed. 

 

“I suppose I judged a bit unfairly.” He admitted. 

 

“He may look different, but he’s been as fair as he could. Agonized over the hard choices and tried his best to do right by these people. Complete strangers, people who were concerned with him just like you. Or is it that he may be more intelligent than you took him for?” Varric said with a smirk. 

 

“I…” he began, frowning. “May have judged him a bit, yes. Still, even if I admit that, there’s still no proof we’re related. The strange mark, the eyes, father’s story? It’s all circumstantial. Hawke’s fancy mansion? Tell me she could have got it just by batting her eyelashes at the viscount and swearing she was the rightful owner.” 

 

“You mentioned before they sent you off on purpose, that they only needed the heir and the spare. If they did that to you, what’s to stop dear old dad from fathering another child? You honestly think there’s no reason he might have cheated? Who knows, maybe it wasn’t even intentional. Now, with your witless relative on the throne, your family gone? You’ve sworn yourself to the chantry. Wouldn’t Starkhaven be in better hands with him instead of a pawn?” Varric argued. 

 

“You have no pr-“ he started. 

 

“I don’t. That’s true. I know someone who does.” Varric said. “Why don’t you talk to the nightingale, see what she has to say. I believe she has something that may change your mind.” 

* * *

“I believe this may be the longest we’ve gone without discussing the Inquisition, or related matters.” Cullen said. “We didn’t have much time before. Although the walk was...pleasant. To be honest, I appreciate the distraction.” 

 

Cherish exhaled slowly, giggling a bit. “I had the same thought. ‘A distraction might be nice.’” Sighing, he looked up, accidentally meeting eyes. “I...we should spend more time together.” 

 

Cullen smiled. “I would like that.” 

 

“Me too.” Cherish said absently, moving another piece. 

 

“You said that.” He reminded him gently. 

 

He glanced up, his face flushing deeply. Maybe there was something to what she said after all. Sparing him from having to figure out a response, Cullen looked back to the board. 

 

“We should finish our game. Right, my turn?” 

 

He nodded, eyes wandering the gardens for just a moment, brows furrowing when he caught sight of a hint of red. Was that Varric? What was he up to? 

 

Turning his attention back, he played his last piece, staring seriously in disbelief. How was it he had actually won? 

 

“I believe this one is yours.” Cullen said. “Well played.” 

 

Had he really let him win? There was no way someone with this much experience would lose so easily, especially considering any decent strategies he might have had were probably locked away with his other memories. Rather than call him on it, he smiled knowingly. 

 

“We shall have to try again sometime.” He suggested. 

 

Was that...an invitation? His way of suggesting he actually had enjoyed his company? His mind completely blanked on him, nodding his agreement. 

 

“That sounds nice...I’d like that.” Cherish murmured. 

 

Just about the time he looked poised to answer, a figure in Cherish’s hooded cloak came up, stopping next to him, the voice slightly off, but he could easily tell it was Hawke. She cleared her throat. 

 

“Uhh...Inquisitor, I came to inquire as to where you keep the wine?” She said. 

 

“Hello, Hawke.” Cullen said. 

 

“Damn it. Hey, Cullen.” She sighed. 

 

“It’s in the bottom drawer of the desk. Don’t touch the stuff on the right side, that’s Dorian’s. He’ll be grumpy if you drink it.” He said. 

 

“He’s got stuff in your room too?” She said, a hint of disappointment in her tone. 

 

“Well, yes. He stopped by the other day to play cards with me, Varric and Bull.” He said. 

 

“I didn’t even know you played cards.” Cullen commented. 

 

“Varric taught me. I’m not very good, but it’s fun. It’s nice sometimes. Although I’m broke again…” he admitted sheepishly. 

 

“Invite me next time? I used to play cards with him all the time. I’m sure I can win some of it back for you.” She offered. 

 

“The money isn’t important to me. I don’t know what I’d spend it on.” He shrugged. 

 

“Seb thinks you don’t have a thing in common. What a fool.” She laughed. 

 

“Maker’s breath. Hawke, are you actually saying he’s here too? Cassandra is going to be furious…” Cullen groaned. 

 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Varric asked him to come I guess.” She shrugged. “I came because he said I could help. I’m sticking around because look at him!” She said, prodding his cheek. “He’s adorable. I couldn’t resist.” 

 

Cherish’s cheeks puffed slightly, his face purpling again, this time it seemed more in embarrassment than anything. Cullen figured it might be best to help him out. Standing up, he said as authoritatively as he could manage. 

 

“Right, I believe Josephine had something to discuss in the war room. Leliana is surely there already as well, shall we?” He said. 

 

Cherish quickly stood up, excusing himself as politely as he could before rushing off after him. 

 

Out of earshot, he spoke quietly. “There’s no meeting, you just seemed a bit overwhelmed. Follow me, and we’ll figure something out for a bit.” 

 


	29. Chapter 29

Cherish took to his tent almost immediately upon reaching Crestwood. It didn’t need to be asked, he wasn’t fond of rain, and that’s all it had been doing. 

 

“It’s still pretty early, sure you’re not coming out?” Hawke asked curiously, crawling in and shaking out her hair. “Don’t blame you. My boots are about to start making that ‘squish’ sound.”

 

“I’ll...just sit in here until it lets up.” He mumbled against his knees. 

 

“Gotta say I don’t think that’s gonna happen. Did you see the water? Probably hasn’t stopped in years.” Hawke said. 

 

“It figures.” Cherish sighed. “Why would a Warden be  _ here _ ?” 

 

“You already hate it here, right? Most people do. No one is going to want to poke around looking for one man.” She guessed. “I wouldn’t want to anyway.” 

 

“If it wasn’t important, I’d still be in Skyhold.” He admitted. 

 

“You appear to have Cullen’s attention at least. That seems...fun.” She shrugged. “Wasn’t very interesting when I met him, and certainly never smiled. Never heard of him taking a break. Or  _ playing games _ . Whatever you’re doing, I approve. Even Varric seems happier these days, much as he’d like to deny it and complain.” 

 

“I’m not so sure about that. This is all very new to me. I’ve spent much of my life as a servant, well treated though I may have been, I’m not much of a leader. I don’t know how to be. For all I know, people are just too nice to tell me how bad I am.” He sighed. 

 

Itching the base of his horns lazily, he leaned back on his elbows, hit tail smacking the bedroll slowly, but firmly. Hawke grinned, reaching over to prod his cheek. 

 

“I could tell you how bad you are all night if that’ll make you happier.” She offered. 

 

“Hawke, leave him alone.” Varric chided, crawling in the tent with them. Solas was off somewhere else entirely, probably. Usually left enough room for everyone in one tent so the scouts could use the others to catch some shuteye on shift changes. “He’s got enough on his plate without you trying to get in his breeches.” 

 

“Oh, I don’t think she was…” Cherish began. 

 

“I  _ was _ .” She shrugged. “I was going to try a little harder, but it appears he doesn’t want me to.” 

 

“You were ser...Varric, she was  _ serious _ .” He said, his tone a little concerned, partly anxious, part sweeping through his mind for some way to process it. 

 

He’d snuck in a few pages of the journal Leliana had locked away in his office. The kid wasn’t exactly a blushing virgin, but given that he couldn’t recall much? He probably didn’t recall half those things anyway. Half jealous, half sad. It would be pretty nice to forget the worst of those drunken nights but at that cost? It wouldn’t be worth it. 

 

“As I recall Sebastian didn’t know what to do with that information either. It’s a curse. Always someone unattainable.” She laughed. “Suppose I’ll stop flirting.” 

 

Cherish frowned a little at that. “I sort of find it flattering.” 

 

“I’ll take that under advisement.” She said. 

 

Varric sat between them, reaching in his pocket for a deck of cards, not immediately saying anything as he shuffled them. “Dorian flirts too. Just that Curly seems to get the most reaction out of him.” 

 

He buried his face in his knees again, streaking purple up to the points of his ears. On the other hand, it might be a little bit amusing to tease him on occasion. Maybe. 

 

“Hey! That reminds me...you were spying on me before, weren’t you? I saw the edge of your coat.” He said. 

 

“You’re getting a bit slow these days.” Hawke teased.

 

“Yeah, I may have seen you playing Cullen in the garden. Sebastian was there too.” He shrugged. 

 

“And Hawke.” Cherish pointed out. 

 

“Yeah, I was there for a bit. I was debating whether or not I could get away with checking out the tavern.” She admitted. 

 

“I overheard before. You really think he might be my brother?” He asked. 

 

“In your room...right. I suppose you should probably know. There was a necklace brought in from your master’s home. I wasn’t exactly supposed to see it, but old habits die hard.” He said. “That necklace has the Vael family crest on it. It’s apparently quite old, probably an heirloom.” 

 

“It matches that mark you have.” Hawke said.

 

“I’ve never seen it. I don’t know what it looks like.” Cherish said. 

 

“You’ll have to take our word for it.” Varric sighed. “It’s not a scar, doesn’t appear to be a tattoo or freckles. Frankly I’m not sure  _ what  _ it is, but the shape is too close to be anything but.” 

 

“He seems to believe we’re not related. Wouldn’t he know?” Cherish questioned. 

 

“His family was incredibly devout, I was told. His father having an affair would have caused a huge scandal if it was discovered. Looking like you do...he must have been convinced he had committed a grievous sin. Better to hide the shame, if no one knew about you, he would be safe.” Hawke speculated. “He must not have realized you didn’t exactly die.” 

 

He let his hands drop, scratching idly at the dirt, thinking it over in his mind. Maybe that made sense. Would explain why he didn’t remember his father. Might explain a lot, if he really considered it.

 

“Then...we  _ are  _ brothers?” He asked finally. 

 

“Yeah, you would be.” Varric nodded, dealing the cards. 

 

“More than that, you gotta think bigger. You’d be a prince, closest heir to the Starkhaven throne. Sebastian wouldn’t contest, he’s devoted to the chantry now. The guy leading now is some puppet uncle or cousin.” Hawke explained. 

 

“No, now I’m starting to think this sounds entirely crazy. I’m not royalty, and if I was, I have no idea what that means for me, or what was expected of me. That’s too much, that’s...it’s too much. I’m just me.” He mumbled. “Two sovereigns.” 

 

Hawke glances to Varric with a one-shouldered shrug, the slow shake of his head in reply was enough. Leave him alone, seriously. She’d spent enough time around Anders and Fenris to know there were some issues you didn’t push. This appeared to be one of those issues. 

 

“I’ll see your sovereigns.” She said finally. 

 

Varric watched for a few moments before tossing a few coins in the pile. “So who won?” 

 

Cherish stared at his cards, brow furrowed in confusion. No way to know just yet. 

 

“You and Cullen. Who won?” He clarified. 

 

He licked his lips like they’d gone dry, refusing to look up until his face cooled some. “I did.” 

 

Varric grinned at that. “How did it play out? Did you cheat or did you beat him on your own?” 

 

He shrugged at that. “I think he lost on purpose.”

 

Hawke smirked behind her cards. “Sounds nothing like the Cullen I knew. I don’t think losing is something he’s ever done. In anything.” 

 

“Why would he do that for me then? I realize it’s been a while but I didn’t think I was that bad…” he sighed. 

 

Hawke glances to Varric. “Do you want to tell him or should I?” 

 

“I’ve got this. Had to give you the talk after all.” He said, scratching his chin in thought. “Curly is the very definition of loyalty, dedication and competition. Even Bull has sparred with him, he doesn’t back down.” 

 

“Yeah, I get that.” He said with a nod. 

 

“He’s seen you hurt helping his men. He’s seen you hurt protecting everyone at Haven. In short, it’s pretty obvious he likes you.” Varric explained. 

 

“It’s not all that obvious to me…” he admitted. 

 

“If you don’t think so, why not talk to him when you get back? I’m sure it’ll resolve itself.” Hawke said. 

 

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I’ll think it over.” 

 

Seemed like the last time they talked that morning, things had gotten serious for him, it was already a big enough decision to stop taking lyrium, and adding onto that stress and strain didn’t seem wise. Still, it was worth a short discussion eventually. Cherish was learning that the past might be locked away, but now, in the present, he could remember everything. New memories were enough to stave off his desire to remember how he ended up at this point. 

 

His stomach did little flips thinking about how to bring something like that up. He set his cards down and Hawke took a moment to look over everything before collecting the bounty. Cherish grimaced, matching Varric’s expression, both pausing to check how much they had on them. 

 

“Sure wish it would stop raining…” Cherish muttered. “Guess we’ll set out in the morning. If it’s not going to stop, might as well get it done early.” 


	30. Chapter 30

Cherish scrapes at his horns in thought, drawing his hood up amidst irritated muttering about the chill of the rain on the way out. 

 

“So...Wardens hear this calling...and they go to the Deep Roads to die? But right now... _ every  _ Warden is hearing it? They all think they’ll die? I’m...not very familiar with Wardens. We don’t really have them. Or...if we do, I’ve never met one until I came here? I assume it’s really bad if all the Wardens die. What happens?” He asked conversationally. 

 

“I’ve been told only a Warden can stop a Blight. Something special they do to Archdemons, I think? Only...I don’t know what it is about them that stops people like you or I from doing the same.” Hawke replied. “Varric, you have anything to add?” 

 

“I don’t know. This falls into what I’d call ‘magic shit’ so I’m not an expert here. I know just about what everyone else does. They kill darkspawn and archdemons and end blights.” He said with a shrug. 

 

“I tried asking Blackwall, but he’s always so vague. I can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t like me enough to tell me, or if it’s something I’m not supposed to know?” He admitted with a sigh. 

 

“It’s probably just privileged information.” Varric shrugged. 

 

Cherish nodded slowly, rubbing his arms to try to make the goosebumps go away. Heat was fine, the hotter the better, really. But cold rain was the worst, felt so unnatural in a way, left his skin prickling and chilly, and made his muscles crawl and shudder. He could mostly cover his body, but his tail was always out, no chance to avoid it really. Hawke rummaged in her bag and pulled out a robe that looked worn, draping it over his shoulders. 

 

“Thank you...you don’t need this right now?” He asked curiously. 

 

“I grew up in Lothering. The weather here doesn’t bother me anymore.” She said. 

 

Cherish sniffled a little, his lip curling in a slight pout. “I wish I could be so lucky.” 

 

“Well, when we get back to Skyhold, you’ll be able to curl up by the fire and get warm.” Varric reminded him. 

 

He tugged the edges of the robe closer, picking up the pace. They were at least almost out of Crestwood, so the odds of getting to somewhere a little bit more amenable to him. It didn’t have to be arid or even tropical to be preferable for him. 

 

“I might do that. Sounds really nice about now.” He sighed. 

 

“Must be pretty bad for you to get off your feet and relax. Even becoming a pincushion didn’t keep you down as long as it should have.” Varric laughed. 

 

“A few broken bones and some holes aren’t going to keep me off my feet. I’m useful like that. At least now. Last time I think I was down for weeks…” he said vaguely. “I’m still fuzzy on the details, but it felt like forever anyway.” 

 

Solas finally spoke, mostly content to let the others have their conversation. Now, though...that was certainly a curious enough statement. 

 

“Are you starting to remember something?” He asked quietly. 

 

Cherish gave an exaggerated shrug, his hands clapping against his hips loudly when they fell back into place. 

 

“Maybe. A little. I’m not...really sure.” He admitted. “A woman, a Templar. I’ve mentioned her before. She believed I was a demon, an abomination. Attacked. I got back to master’s home, I don’t remember how. His father was upset with me. With him. Said he should have known better. I don’t know what he meant. Said I was foolish...then...I just remember staring up at the ceiling for what felt like forever…it isn’t much. It makes me sad. I wanted so badly to get the mages and the Templars...I thought I could do that much…” 

 

“It’s not your fault. They’re still very tense about the war...not that they always got along before that…” Hawke admitted. 

 

“Blondie didn’t help matters on that front.” Varric said. 

 

“I...don’t understand why.” He began. “I’ve heard the Dalish Keepers supervise and teach their mages...Tevinter teaches, but they’re not locked away. They’re allowed to come and go...I don’t understand why they should be locked away elsewhere.” 

 

“I  _ knew _ there was a reason I liked you.” Hawke said in agreement. “They say it’s because of the danger. Blood magic, possession...many reasons. The things I witnessed in Kirkwall…” 

 

“Blood magic will happen, as will demon possession. Aren’t dwarves the only people without magic? They’re immune to possession? I’m not sure. But...a weapon is only a danger when the one wielding it makes it so...why isn’t every soldier or bandit or mercenary locked up too?” Cherish asked. 

 

“A rather convenient problem, isn’t it? I’ve heard your mother was an elf. Did she teach you much? I’d be happy to share some fascinating things with you.” Solas offered. 

 

“I...yeah...that could be fun…” he said quietly. “Yes...my mother is an elf. Although I don’t remember much of her either. Except...I feel like our time was cut short somehow. I can recall little things. A kiss on the head before I went to sleep. The sound of her singing. Stories...but...then nothing. Like one day I woke up and nothing I knew was anywhere to be found…” 

 

“You’re making him feel bad…” Hawke said disapprovingly. “Poor thing…” 

 

“Even small memories like that could help him remember more. It was a genuine inquiry. However, it ended with a start. I’d say that’s a fair trade.” Solas disagreed. 

 

Cherish frowned, worried it might escalate. Interrupting, he exaggerated his excitement, pointing up to the sky. “Look! We’re out of the rain. Maker, I was worried it would last all day…” 

 

“So, Andrastian...I’m honestly not sure what I expected. Somehow that wasn’t it.” Hawke admitted with a laugh. 

 

“Is that strange? I thought many southerners were Andrastian?” Cherish asked seriously. “I’m not sure now. I couldn’t say whether or not I believe like Giselle does...but...it’s natural for me. Master and his father brought me with. When his father passed, master took me more often. I couldn’t read. But it sounded nice.” 

 

“Well, Curly will certainly appreciate that. The Nightingale and the Seeker too, actually.” Varric shrugged. 

 

“Cassandra still doesn’t talk to me much. I think I’m an uncomfortable thing for her. Perhaps she can’t think of me as anything but a demon. It’s a shame. I like her just fine. She’s tough. Pretty too. She reminds me of someone, but I can’t think.” He rambled. 

 

“So she’s your type?” Hawke asked curiously. 

 

“Type? Is that what it means? I think she’s admirable. She has good traits.” He said. 

 

“I believe she means sex.” Solas clarified. 

 

“Oh...I’m...not sure? Maybe? But...if that’s true, then wouldn’t that make everyone ‘my type’? I like everyone, after all.” He said. 

 

“Probably not.” Varric said. “Sorry, Hawke.”

 

“Hey, that just means  _ she’s  _ not his type. Not that I’m  _ not _ . There’s still a chance.” She said with a shrug. 

 

“Hawke…” he began. 

 

“Yes?” She asked. 

 

“Settle something for me.” He said. 

 

“Gladly, what is it?” She wondered.

 

“Do you think I’m ‘cute’?” He asked, pouting again. 

 

She grinned at that. “Oh, more than that, I’d say. You’re cute, yes. But also  _ exotic _ . Handsome. I can think of at least a dozen things I find perfectly charming about you.” 

 

His face flushed a dark purple and he hid in the hoods of both robes to avoid showing his face. On the other hand, he certainly didn’t feel so chilly with his face so warm. 

 

“Your turn. Tell me I’m pretty.” She said. 

 

“Hawke, come on, you’re torturing him again.” Varric sighed. 

 

“You’re pretty.” He said. 

 

“Thank you.” She beamed. “See, Varric? All in good fun.” 

 

Solas interjected. “He  _ was _ a slave. No doubt obedience is still ingrained in him.” 

 

“ _ Servant _ .” Varric said pointedly. 

 

Sure, slave, servant, basically the same, but it was clear his master had been beloved by him. No need to put him on the defensive with a perceived insult. Solas seemed bothered by the distinction, but opted to quietly correct himself. Perhaps he had a point. 

 

“Do you think there’s a market close by?” Cherish asked, choosing to ignore the conversation entirely. “I’m getting hungry…” 

 

“You didn’t pack anything?” Varric asked. 

 

“No, I forgot all about it...I guess it seemed closer on the map…” he admitted sheepishly. 

 

“Well, we’ll find something before it’s time to turn in. Josephine would have a fit if we let you starve out here.” Varric told him. “She’s already up in arms that you hardly ever rest.” 

 

“Is...is that bad?” He asked. 

 

“Have you ever seen her angry?” Varric replied.

 

“No…” he said. 

 

“Neither have I. Best not to push your luck.” He warned. 

 

“I...think I might take a few days off…” he said warily. 

 

“Good idea.” Varric agreed, nodding. 

 

“What am I supposed to do though?” He asked seriously. 

 

“Sleep. Drink. Play cards, whatever you feel like so long as it’s not work.” He explained. 

 

“Well...I suppose this can’t last forever. Maybe I should practice now anyway.” Cherish relented, the tip of his tail twitching nervously. “Maybe.”

  
  



	31. Chapter 31

Cherish kept his word. He beelined right for his room on returning. He attempted to return Hawke’s old robe, though she refused, insisting it was a gift, he probably needed it more. It made him a little bit happy. Even if she was a bit of a flirt, it was rare for anyone to treat him so kindly right off and rarer still for anyone to give him a gift. 

 

He draped the robe out in front of the fire, next to his cloak to dry, taking a seat close to the fire, hands outstretched in an effort to warm the cold out of his bones. He rose up long enough to grab an apple from the basket on his desk. His nose wrinkled at the sourness. Green apples weren't quite his favorite, but it was something to quiet the slight gurgle that erupted. 

 

Cherish could hear someone out in the hall. A soldier, by the sounds of it, he couldn't identify people specifically, only that most of the company he received was soft in step and quick. It came as no surprise when he heard the knock on his door. Had he not caught the sound, it may have startled him. 

 

”Come in.” he said, sitting up properly. 

 

The door thunked twice, and a moment later, Cullen rounded the stairs. He hadn't called for him, and it seemed unusual to see him in this part of the keep, but not unpleasant. He patted the ground beside him, setting his snack aside. Cullen stared at the floor uneasily, lending it a bit of thought before he joined him. 

 

”I’m sorry...I forget sometimes. I should have offered you a proper chair, the floor is no place for someone of your standing…” Cherish mumbled.

 

”Technically, you outrank me. If I shouldn't sit on the floor, neither should you.” Cullen replied with a laugh. 

 

He turned his focus to the desk in thought, nodding to it. ”Would you like a drink?” 

 

Cullen wasn't quite sure if he was trying to stay busy even now, lapsing into old patterns or perhaps just uncomfortable with his presence. He'd have refused if he hadn't already gotten up to retrieve a bottle from the lower drawer and two mugs. 

 

”Sure. I suppose one drink wouldn't hurt…” he relented. 

 

He handed his over first before returning to the floor, legs crossed in front of him. The conversation flooded back into his mind, almost as though it was still happening. He snuck a glance at Cullen. He didn't seem to notice. He took a drink, turning back to the fire, the soft crackling soothing. Cherish lent it more thought. He was strangely captivating in a way he couldn't quite recall anyone being. Maybe not, he couldn't be sure beyond a feeling. His eyes were captivating, focused. Even the scar on his lip looked like it belonged there, he had shown him kindness, went out of his way to put him at ease before…

 

Then there was that strangely lingering look after Haven, the conversation over chess. Was he being dense? Did he miss something important? 

 

”Varric thinks you like me.” Cherish said finally. 

 

Cullen swallowed hard, coughing immediately. His face flushed, his attention drawn to him. Cherish wasn't certain if the look he gave him was that of a guilty man caught by surprise or one of disbelief, one that said he was absolutely crazy to think such a thing. The silence felt like an invasion very nearly. He could practically hear his own pulse in his ears, and it was maddening. Silence wasn’t entirely unpleasant. At times it was even welcome. This was not one of those times, and the longer it lasted, the worse it began to feel.

 

”I…” he began.

 

”Of course he was wrong, I suspected he might have been teasing.” Cherish said almost immediately. 

 

”No…” he said, kneading the back of his neck with an anxious sigh. He took a long drink, then a shorter one, as if seeking a distraction. ”I...would rather not lie to you. I...have thought about it, a little.” 

 

It was his turn to focus on his drink, downing about half in one go, his palm sweeping across his bare stomach as though he could touch the sudden rush of butterflies. 

 

”You’re...not joking?” he asked quietly. 

 

”I’m not particularly good at joking…” Cullen admitted. ”I hadn't intended to say anything about it. We're in the middle of a war, you're the Inquisitor, I lead your army...if that doesn't say ’conflict of interest’ I'm not sure what does...that said...knowing that has done nothing to help. Rest assured, I won't let this distract me.” 

 

His mouth had gone dry. He finished his drink, but that wasn't what had his head spinning. How impossibly dense and blind was he to not  _ know  _ that? More importantly, what was he supposed to say to that? What was it he wanted to say? 

 

”It...doesn't bother you?” he asked curiously. 

 

”No. I've...never been  _ involved _ with another man before, but I can't deny a certain curiosity about you…” he muttered almost guiltily. 

 

Cherish hung his head, doing nothing to hide the full flush creeping over his face, his ears hot. His tail thumped nervously against his leg, setting his cup to the side, trying to give the matter his full attention. 

 

”I meant…” he trailed off, gesturing to his body, his face, the horns, his tail. He was vastly different from anyone here, and given the immediate reaction when he was set loose? He had assumed that might have put him off. ”I’m not...too different?” 

 

Cullen sighed again, half-heartedly shrugging. ”Perhaps at first. I...got to know you, and now, I barely notice to be honest. It might not seem like I should be able to ignore it, but you were right. You're no demon. I know what true abominations are, and you're not like those  _ things. _ ” 

 

”I...admit, I'm fond of you...I don't know what to say...I have no idea what things were like before, and I'm not certain that I'll be the same when I'm whole again...but, I'd like to give it a chance. I...that is...if you were okay with that.” he mumbled anxiously. 

 

He smiled, just a bit. Cherish had been anticipating an answer, but the way he closed the space between him, his hands skimming his cheeks before resting in his hair, and his lips on his? That hadn't crossed his thoughts as a possibility. His legs unfolded, and sent them to the floor. Cherish hesitated, unsure what to do with his hands, finally curling in the edges of his coat, holding onto him for support. His mouth opened slightly, a soft, cautious exploration of his lips, his tongue. There was sometimes a familiarity to things, but this? There wasn't even a faint familiarity to it. At least here, it seemed like there would be no interruptions. 

 

Cherish let his hands slip upward, fingers exploring his shoulders, the chill and solidity of his armor digging in in places, but he didn't give it much thought. 

 

”Inquisitor, if I might have a w - Maker, I'm sorry. I've come at a bad time…” he heard behind him. 

 

_ So much for no interruptions. _

 

They hurriedly broke apart, despite realizing it was a bit late to try and appear presentable. Sebastian stood there, unsure how to react to the situation. Cullen rose to his feet, clearing his throat

 

”I should get back to work. I'll speak with you later, Inquisitor.” he said, rushing out hurriedly.

 

”Apologies for the interruption. I had no idea you were otherwise  _ engaged _ .” Sebastian said.

 

”I...did you need something?” Cherish asked almost guiltily.

 

”I had hoped we might talk. It's...relatively important, or I’d not have dropped by unannounced.” he assured.

 

Retrieving his apple, he bit into it, face twisting at the bitterness once more. 

 

”What is it?” he asked curiously.

 

”About your necklace...I spent a lot of time with your Spymaster. I can't deny it's authentic...I’ve prayed for answers, guidance, anything…” he sighed. ”I've come to the conclusion you couldn't have come by it any other way. I considered purchase, theft, every possibility and it's just not logical unless you got it from father...you must indeed be a Vael, which means I've got some difficult things to accept. Least of which is having a new brother. Once I accepted that it was authentic, I still didn't want to accept what that meant...but...I feel we should get to know each other, at least.” 

 

Cherish swept his tongue over his lips, trying to process it, lend it the correct amount of consideration and due care. He had a brother after all.. 

 

”That’s not...you don't have to force yourself to spend any time with me, I won't hold it against you.” Cherish murmured. 

 

”No, perhaps not. It is, however, the right thing to do, and beyond that, I want to. You're now my closest living family, and while I never expected this, I need to give this a fair chance.” he told him. 

 

”Well...bit too late for games, and I gather you don't drink...I'm unsure what that leaves, but if it's what you want, I'll give it a try. Just let me know when, and I'll clear my schedule.” Cherish said. 

 

”I'll need time to come up with something. I'll let you know. In the meantime, allow me to apologize again for the interruption, and...for the ungracious way I treated you when we met.” Sebastian said, excusing himself again. 

 

Time would be useful. To accept this change, and to consider what that meant for him, and for them. It meant entertaining the idea that his father intended to send him away, or had meant for him to die without ever knowing…

 

He watched Sebastian leave, finishing his apple before discarding the leftover bits before he retreated to his bed. 

  
  



	32. Chapter 32

Sebastian sat across from Cherish, unsure what to say. Leliana had given him access to information he couldn’t begin to bring up. Still, it looked like they had a bit in common after all. Lunch and conversation seemed a good place to start, at least until he came up with something better. 

 

“No stew then?” He asked. 

 

He had a plate of sliced fruits, some bread, cheese, and a few small chocolates. A glass of goat’s milk on the side. 

 

“It has druffalo. I can’t eat it.” He said conversationally. “It’s too heavy, will slow me down, I think? I’m not sure. Just that this is better for me.” 

 

Cherish picked out a piece of sliced pear, admiring the flowers blooming in the garden. Sebastian tried the stew. It was bland, but the meals served in the chantry weren’t exactly gourmet either. He didn’t mind so much. 

 

“So...Cullen.” He said. 

 

“What about him?” He said, glancing up from his plate. 

 

“You seem...close.” He said as delicately as possible. 

Cherish blushed, his tail coiling around his leg. “You mean...the kiss, right? That’s never happened before...I guess we’re...I don’t know.” 

 

Nothing he’d read indicated he’d been particularly close to anyone other than an entirely casual encounter, something with an advantage or benefit before, but this seemed different. 

 

“You like him though, right?” He asked, sampling the bread. 

 

“I do. He’s been kinder than I deserve...I’m not exactly normal. What about you?” He wondered. “I suppose not...the pretty bird says chantry types aren’t usually allowed to date…” 

 

Sebastian laughed at that, shaking his head. “Maybe not now. I wasn’t always a ‘chantry type’. I spent my younger days drinking and whoring. I was a troublemaker. Luckily I wasn’t really planned for the throne, so our father decided to send me off. Hoped to curb my wild streak. If you can believe it, I ran off at first. I didn’t want to be there, liked my old life. I eventually came back, of course…” 

 

“Really? That’s hard to picture.” Cherish admitted. “I...am not really comfortable around clerics.”

 

“Why is that?” He questioned gently. “You are not lost in the Maker’s sight. He loves you no less than any other.” 

 

He sighed, taking a drink, thinking it over. It seemed a little clearer now than it had before, still foggy, but the recollection was beginning to clear. He clutched his cowl, rubbing the edges like he needed to for comfort. 

 

“I  _ am _ Andrastian. I believe in the Maker.” He assured him. “I just...have this memory of a man speaking to a woman, there was water, I remembered feeling like I was drowning, and...that was just before I was put on a ship. When I ended up in Seheron…” 

 

“Where were you before?” He asked, his stomach sinking at the possibilities coming to mind. 

 

“I lived with my mother, she took care of me…” he told him. “I was happy. Then someone took me away, brought me to the chantry...she screamed and cried, begged him not to take me away…” 

 

He seemed to struggle to piece it together.. 

 

“I want nothing from him, I just want my son, please don’t take him…” Cherish added. “It changed nothing…” 

 

He was on the right track then. Sent to the chantry to absolve his own sins, not the boy’s, then sent to die on far off shores. Ripped from his mother to ensure no one would ever find out. But it sounded like she never intended anyone to discover his parentage…

 

“I’m so sorry...I...the father I knew, I thought incapable of such a thing. I admit I barely thought it possible for him to have an affair, let alone...Maker...no child deserves such a thing.” 

 

Cherish sighed, shrugging a shoulder. “It worked out…I was picked up by slavers, and brought to Tevinter. My master gave me my name, gave me a purpose. He treated me with respect and kindness. I loved him. Not much older than I was, maybe ten years? But he was almost like a father to me. I wish I could remember more…” 

 

Sebastian held up a hand as if to tell him not to leave. There wasn’t really anything stopping him from doing certain things beyond his own restrictions. He crossed the yard to the tavern, returning to the table with a bottle, handing it to him, a mug of ale in front of him. One drink wouldn’t hurt anything and this was way worse than he imagined. His own father had done something more monstrous than he assumed his own son was. His brother, the one he had believed died before he ever lived, alive in front of him. Abandoned and enslaved, and to him that was still better than the alternative? 

 

Rather than continue the line of questioning, he changed the subject. 

 

“What’s next for you then?” He asked, taking a drink. 

 

Sebastian’s nose wrinkled. More bitter than he remembered, not that he cared to get back to it, but he was out of practice. 

 

He reached for a piece of apple, appreciating how sweet it was. Perhaps he’d inadvertently mentioned it before? 

 

“I have to go to the Western Approach? It’s far away, I guess.” He said. “I heard you’re a fine archer...I realize you might not want to, but would you...like to go with?” 

 

He had wanted to find something to do, some way to get to know him a bit better. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. It had been years since the last time he’d had a need to pick up his bow, the practice couldn’t hurt. 

 

“I suppose Arista will be going too?” He sighed. 

 

“Yes, she’s the one with the leads, after all.” He shrugged. 

 

“Well, I lasted this long in her company, I suppose I can handle a little more. Sure. I’ll go.” He agreed. 

 

Cherish finished his milk, eating a bit more before he opened the bottle, giving it a try. Not Fereldan, whatever it was, wherever it was from, it was smooth, no harsh aftertaste, no bitter taste. 

 

“Starkhaven.” He said. “You didn’t get a fair chance to appreciate it properly. It’s not much, but it’s something.” 

 

Cherish took another taste. “Whiskey?” 

 

“Yes.” He nodded. 

 

“That’s amazing! I thought it was supposed to be harsh.” He admitted. 

 

“It’s a matter of pride, if I’m being honest. Not the most impressive thing to be proud of, but it’s the best in the Marches. Trust me. I spent an unfortunate amount of time with Hawke and Varric in the Hanged Man. Even Fenris found it pleasant. You know, you have something in common with him. Not...not that I imagined you know him, but he was a slave in the Imperium. He’s an elf, so, kind of similar, I guess?” He suggested. “Served a magister, but he never made it out of Kirkwall.”

 

“There were a few replaced years ago? My master inherited his father’s seat when he passed. I believe he said he was trying to ensure I’d get his seat if something happened…” he shrugged again. 

 

“I believe his name was Danarius?” Sebastian said with a shrug of his own. 

 

“Ah. Never met him personally, but I have heard the name somewhere before...can’t remember where…” he shrugged. 

 

“Seems like we may be leaving sooner rather than later.” Sebastian said, nodding behind him. 

 

Cherish turned to find Cullen approaching, glancing up from a stack of reports. He glanced at Sebastian curiously, but said nothing immediately. 

 

“My brother.” Cherish said, as though expecting a question. 

 

That made him raise a brow, a look that seemed to say he would never have guessed, and he had questions, none of which he opted to ask. 

 

“Inquisitor” he began, opting for formality since there were others around, despite that other having walked in on them already. “I’ve received word from the forward scouts, whenever you’re ready, everything is in place to head for the Western Approach.” 

 

“Well, I’ll ready my things after lunch. I’d bet Arista is already anxious to get going.” Sebastian said. 

 

“I won’t take long to get ready either.” Cherish said. “I’ll grab Varric and Bull. They don’t take long either. We can set out inside of an hour, probably.” 

 

“Before you go, drop by my office, I’ll have more information by then.” Cullen said, excusing himself. 

 

“We can talk more on the road. For now, I suppose we should just finish our meal and get ready to set out.” He said. “Bring an extra water skin. It’s probably hot.” 

 

Cherish stared at him. “Really? Finally! I’m so tired of the cold. I can’t wait!” 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This one may be a bit different and maybe a bit confusing. Given the nature of the character, I’m going for more of a perspective that’s as strange as he is.


End file.
